


Miraculous: Adventures of Volpina and Jade Turtle

by TerminalMiraculosis



Category: Miraculous Ladybug
Genre: ;), AU, F/M, It's a show rewrite with Alya and Nino as Volpina and Jade Turtle, Will there be an Identity Reveal?, You'll just have to wait to find out, but 100 percent less cinematic engagement, featuring roughly 50 percent more plot than the original, season 2 is gonna screw up all my headcanons for their powers but whatever, you know because it's a story
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-03-25
Updated: 2017-08-26
Packaged: 2018-10-10 13:02:12
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 6
Words: 45,831
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10438293
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TerminalMiraculosis/pseuds/TerminalMiraculosis
Summary: Nino was dreading the return of school. In his eyes, all that lay ahead was another year full of boredom, classroom drama, and disappointing his parents. So when a giant stone golem that used to be his classmate starts chucking around police cars, and a tiny god gives him abilities the likes of which he's only ever seen on TV, he's understandably a bit surprised.Alya thought she'd known what to expect on her first day of school in Paris: the snotty rich kids, the nice kids she knew she'd befriend in time, the teachers that clearly knew they weren't being paid enough; even the supermodel in her class didn't faze her too much. She hadn't expected that a magical fox god would offer her superpowers and tell her to fight against the supervillains terrorizing the city, however. But just because it caught her by surprise didn't mean she didn't jump at the chance.A Season 1 rewrite in which Alya and Nino get miraculouses instead of Marinette and Adrien.





	1. Volpina & Jade Turtle

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey there! Few things to get out of the way:
> 
> As stated in the summary, this is a show rewrite. This particular story will cover Season 1 only, so if I do Season 2 (which is likely), it will be in another story in the same series.
> 
> The order in which I cover the episodes will not line up with any of the many official orders; this is because there are several plot arcs in this story, and I needed to shuffle some akumas around in order to make everything click into place.
> 
> I will be updating as often as I can, but these are long chapters, so it won't be insanely quick or anything. I'm going to hold myself to a maximum of one month between regular updates, though, so it also won't be insanely slow.
> 
> Finally, super special thanks to my beta/editor Abigail, who heavily improved the story. Couldn't do it without you! (Her blog)
> 
> Now, without further delay: Origins.

Volpina and Jade Turtle

“Many centuries ago, magic jewels bestowing extraordinary powers were created. They are called the Miraculous. Throughout history, heroes have used these jewels for the good of the human race. 

“Two of these Miraculous are more powerful than the others: the bracelet of the Turtle, which grants the power of the Body, and the necklace of the Fox, which grants the power of the Mind. According to legend, whoever controls both these jewels at the same time will achieve absolute power.”

Hawkmoth smiled. This was his chance.

* * *

“Yo, Fu.”

Master Fu froze mid-massage. That damn cat didn’t have any sense of subtlety. 

“Huh?” asked Fu’s client.

“Chanting!” Fu exclaimed. “Yofu, yofu… It’s all part of the treatment. Thank you, see you again next week!” he said, shoving the man out of his shop.

He turned to his kwami. “That was reckless, Plagg. What if he had seen you?”

“You worry too much,” Plagg said with his usual drawl. “I have an excellent cat impression. No human’s ever seen through it.”

Master Fu smiled wryly. “Ah, but has any human seen it?”

“Anyway,” Plagg said quickly, “we’ve got a problem. Someone activated the moth miraculous. Bad aura.”

Fu stroked his chin. “This is indeed dire. If someone were to corrupt the moth miraculous, it could be devastating. I think it’s time we enlist some help.”

Plagg chuckled. “Oh, this is gonna be good.”

* * *

Nino considered himself a simple man. He liked music, but he hated country. He liked his friends, hated school, loved video games. He liked being in his room, but he… wasn’t always psyched about his parents. 

In short, he knew what he was about. And, because it’s always worth repeating, he _hated_ school. He was of the firm belief that he would never have to know geometry, or chemistry, or the history of France’s, like, twentieth revolution. 

Thus was the reason for his rather dour mood. The first day of school, as an individual day, wasn’t actually that bad, he knew. However, it symbolized things to come.

Much worse things.

Things like homework.

Ugh, the very thought made him shudder. Nino cranked his music up even louder.

And because his day wasn’t bad enough already, as he was waiting for the light to turn at the sidewalk, his playlist ended. Grumbling to himself, he fished his phone from his pocket.

Just as he hit ‘shuffle’, something caught his eye: a bright hawaiian shirt. It was, in fact, so bright and offensive that Nino felt the need to pry himself from his music, if only for the sole purpose of giving its wearer a disappointed and/or personally affronted look.

He wasn’t expecting an old man to be wearing the shirt, and he wasn’t expecting that man to be _on_ the crosswalk, in the way of oncoming traffic.

Nino sprang forward without thinking twice. His phone tumbled from his grasp, but he couldn’t have cared less as he grabbed the old man’s arm and pulled him across to safety.

“Shit, man, you okay?” he asked, still a bit shaken.

“Thanks to you, young man. I am very sorry about your phone.”

Nino picked it up; a small crack ran across the top of the screen from where it had hit the pavement, which kinda sucked, but otherwise it looked alright. “Don’t sweat it, dude—er, sir. I’m just glad you’re okay. But, uh, I’ve gotta go to school. See ya!”

The old man waved as Nino ran off, a conspiratorial smile on his face.

* * *

“Ah, thank you, young lady.”

Alya helped him up and handed him his cane. “No prob, old man.”

Alya turned away from the zippily-dressed elder and began her march up the steps of her new school, Collège Françoise Dupont.

Moving to Paris had her both nervous and excited. She’d never lived in a big city before; naturally, she and her sisters had protested the change, but once her mother had casually dropped that working as the head chef of the mayor’s hotel might result in an increased allowance, Alya had stopped protesting.

Besides, Paris wasn’t _all_ bad. Sure, it was loud and busy and crowded and stuff, but it lived up to its reputation. It was a beautiful city with beautiful landmarks, and, as she’d discovered in the month she’d been here, _really_ good pastries.

Alya uncrumpled her schedule and maneuvered her way to her homeroom, taught by a Madame Bustier. As she stepped into the doorway, Mme Bustier—a younger teacher, for which Alya was thankful—called to a boy at the back of the class. “Nino, why don’t you have a seat in the front row this year?”

Nino, who wore a red cap and a pair of headphones that made Alya jealous, sighed, picked up his bag, and made his way to the front bench. He caught Alya’s staring, and sent her a half-hearted finger gun.

Alya rolled her eyes and returned the gesture.

She looked around the classroom for a place to sit—she had only arrived a few minutes before the bell, but the class was barely half full. Guess you could always count on teenagers to cut it as close as possible when sleep was on the line. Alya took a seat at the empty desk behind Nino. He seemed pretty chill, and she would’ve been happy to sit next to him, but she wasn’t about to intrude on his space. She knew she could be a bit intimidating, and she didn’t want to get off on the wrong foot. 

Flopping onto her elbows, Alya took out her phone and let herself become absorbed, tuning out the muted chatter of the classroom as students slowly trickled in.

“Excuse me, but what are you doing?” a voice said curtly.

Alya started, her head snapping up from her phone to the girl standing in front of her. She was wearing designer clothing, and her blonde hair, pulled into a ponytail, looked like it had enough chemicals in it to create another X-man. Behind her stood a redheaded girl who was dressed less nicely, but still well above casual wear, with glasses and a hairband. She shared the blonde’s nasty expression.

“What are you talking about?” asked Alya.

“This is _our_ seat,” said the redhead.

Whoops. She probably should’ve asked someone before she just sat down, now that she thought about it. 

Alya hefted her bag. “My bad.”

The blonde rolled her eyes. “Yes, it _is_ your bad.” She pointed an accusatory finger at Alya. “ _Don’t_ make the mistake again, four-eyes.”

Alya stared in faint bewilderment. What was this girl’s problem?

“Well, go on, move. Or do expect me to _stand_ for longer than I _have_ to?”

Out of nowhere, a third girl appeared. She had black hair that shined almost blue in the light, and sported twin pigtails that, somehow, she made work. She held a white box of some sort, and was turning a look of pure disgust up towards the blonde girl, which, considering her puny stature, was kind of adorable. 

“Oh, lay off, Chloé,” she said, her free hand on her hip. “This isn’t even your seat! This is _my_ seat!”

Chloé gave a quick, impossibly pretentious laugh. “Not anymore, pipsqueak. _Adrien Agreste_ is going to be in our class this year, and he’s going to sit in front of _me!_ ” 

“Who’s Adri—you know, I don’t even care. You can have the seat. I don’t want to be sitting near anyone who’s one of your friends anyway.” 

The black-haired girl gave one final huff before grabbing Alya by the arm and dragging her over to the empty bench at the front, across from the one Nino was at. 

As they sat down, the girl let loose a long-winded groan. “God, she is _such_ a pain.”

“You said it, girl.” Alya glanced back at Chloé, who was looking far too smug. “What’s her deal?”

“She’s the mayor’s daughter, Chloé Bourgeois. She thinks she owns the entire darn city.”

Alya rolled her eyes. _Rich people, am I right?_ “Someone should teach her a lesson. Preferably with their fist.”

Her seatmate giggled. “As satisfying as that would be, I don’t think it would solve much. She’s too stubborn. And bossy. And entitled.” She sighed. “Sorry she honed in on you like that. Now you’re on her radar.”

“It’s no biggie. I’ve had to handle worse.”

“I feel sorry for _anyone who’s had to handle worse than her_.” The girl opened her box, which contained an array of macaroons. Alya imagined that they had once been arranged in an orderly manner, but as it stood, they were smushed and broken and lying sporadically throughout the box. “Want a cookie? I kinda dropped them on the way to school—multiple times—but some of them should still be fine. My papa made them; he’s the best baker in all of Paris. Or, that’s what he says, anyway.”

Alya chuckled. “Well, then I better have one, shouldn’t I? I’m Alya, by the way.”

The girl beamed. “Marinette.” 

“So now that we’ve bonded over mutual hatred for a snobby chick and exchanged cookies, I think we’re official friends.”

Marinette giggled. “Oh, is that how it works?”

“Mmhm. I read it on the internet.” Alya bit into the macaroon, and her eyes widened. “Oh my god. These are amazing.”

Marinette’s smile seemed to grow, and Alya was concerned her face would start to tear. “I’m glad you like them!”

“Okay, that settles it, we’re friends now. I need to be able to swindle free pastries from you.”

“I like to think I’m worth more than just free pastries.”

“Sorry, Mari, but _nothing_ is worth more than free pastries.”

Marinette opened her mouth to retort, but before she could, Mme Bustier started class and cut their conversation short.

* * *

The ringing of the lunch bell was so beautiful that Nino almost broke into tears. (He wished he was exaggerating, but it had happened before. Several times, in fact. He was very passionate about leaving school.)

He barely took notice of Ivan and Kim fighting, he was so ready to get out, but he did made sure he kept his distance as the large boy stormed out of the door. He didn’t want to get run over.

Nino turned up his music and made his way through the courtyard, out of the school, and to his home. His mood quickly deflated as he laid eyes on the house; but it couldn’t be avoided. He swung open the door and stepped into the hall.

“I’m home!” he shouted.

“Making dinner!” his mother shouted back. “Your father’s working late!”

“Always is,” Nino mumbled.

“How was school?”

“Good,” Nino lied.

An oven timer went off, and he heard shuffling from the kitchen. “You’re gonna try harder this year, right, Nino?”

“Yeah, yeah. Course.”

He could hear his mother’s sigh even as he started up the staircase. “You’re not going to be able to support yourself if you don’t do well in school.”

Nino didn’t respond, just opened the door to his room. So what if music wasn’t the most stable career option? It was what he wanted to do, so he should do it, right?

But then again, he wasn’t anything exceptional. Realistically… 

Realistically, he didn’t want to think about it any longer.

He harrumphed and switched on the TV, and nearly screamed as the roaring face of some stone golem appeared on the television screen.

“Breaking news: a stone monster has appeared, and is rampaging through the city. And I know this isn’t in the script, Phil, but, Jesus Christ, that thing is big, people, and it is my opinion, as a humble reporter, that we should all be running for our goddamn lives. More to come, if I’m still alive by then. Back to you, Nadja.”

Nino screamed internally (yet somehow managed to retain his cool and uncaring outer demeanor) as he watched the monster throw some police cars around. Nadja Chamack was giving a calm and professional report about the brief statement Mayor Bourgeois had issued, but Nino didn’t really care, and mutely switched the television off again.

Maybe the monster would destroy the school, and they’d get extended Summer vacation. Or maybe the monster would level all of Paris. It was honestly hard to say, and, quite honestly, Nino didn’t care, seeing as how there were literally zero things he could do about the whole situation.

Something dark on Nino’s desk caught his eye: a small, octagonal wooden box.

That hadn’t been there before, had it?

* * *

Alya didn’t take her eyes off the screens in the library until Stoneheart destroyed the camera with a car and the feed cut out. 

“This. Is. _Amazing_.”

“No, it isn’t!” Marinette exclaimed.

“Are you kidding?! Girl, that’s a real life supervillain!”

Marinette splayed her hands wide above her head. “And just what part of that is amazing?! The entire _city_ —no, all of France—no, the entire _planet_ is in danger!”

“You’re overreacting.”

“No, _you_ are _underreacting_!”

“But Mari, do you know what this _means_?”

“The _world is ending_?”

“Wherever there’s a supervillain, there’s also a superhero! Oh, I am _not_ missing this.”

With that, Alya raced out of the school. 

“Alya, wait! It’s too dangerous!” called Marinette, but she was already gone. Marinette bit her lower lip, glancing nervously from the static on the screen to the cowering students to the door Alya had just ran out of. She sighed, shook her head, and dashed after her new friend.

* * *

Alya wasted no time hopping on her bike and riding off towards the stone monstrosity. This was her chance to shove her foot in the door of the journalistic world, and she was not about to give that up. If she was there when the superheroes inevitably arrived and managed to catch them on tape, it would give her just the push she needed to gather a following.

She pumped her bikes pedals as hard as they would go; fortunately, the streets were rather deserted. It seemed that not many people wanted to be out and about while a supervillain was terrorizing the city.

Sometimes, Alya wondered if she was the only person in the world with any sense of adventure.

She moved one hand from the handlebars to the bag slung around her shoulder. It was a challenge to find her phone without looking, but she didn’t want to crash into anything—then she’d _never_ catch up to the monster.

She frowned as her hand brushed against something wooden. What? She didn’t have anything made of wood in her bag. She felt it some more: it was about as big as her fist, it had a bunch of corners, it could open but was latched shut, and there was a piece of paper stuck to it.

A note, maybe? Did someone put this in her bag?

Okay, now she had to know. She braked her bike to a stop and pulled the mysterious object from her bag. An octagonal wooden box, closed with a small gold clasp, with a sticky note on the top.

_Open when alone._

Against her better judgement (well, Alya liked to refer to it as her wet blanket judgement), she swung her bike into the next alleyway she came across and ducked behind a dumpster. A mysterious box on the same day a supervillain showed up? This was too good to be true.

Unless this was what _caused_ the supervillain.

Nah, that was stupid. Alya opened the box.

* * *

At first, all Nino could see was a bracelet; then, all he could see was green, and then black as his eyes closed against the harsh light. He dropped the box back onto his desk and scrambled backwards as the ball of dark green light bulged, warbled, and shaped itself into the form of a small turtle.

Well, it resembled a turtle. One would say it had certain characteristics that were reminiscent of a turtle’s. But Nino was sure of one thing: this was not, in fact, a regular turtle.

He knew he was right when it began to talk.

“Greetings, young master. I’m sure this is all very overwhelming for you, but I must insist you do not panic. I am an ally; it is my mission to serve you. Please do not be alarmed! Take deep breathes if you wish—I have been told deep breathes excel at alleviating panic in humans. N-not that I’m not a human! Or—well—I won’t lie, I’m not human, but I implore you to not be scared. I possess no ill intentions.”

Nino leaned forward. “Huh.”

The little turtle dude narrowed his eyes in a puzzled fashion. “You are… calm?”

Nino shrugged. “Dunno, man. This is really freaky and stuff, but, like… there’s some giant stone guy attacking Paris. That’s about on par with floating talking turtle-things. Plus, I like to think I’m a pretty chill guy.”

“Truly?” the turtle said, flitting over to Nino’s arm. “Your body temperature appears standard.”

Nino blinked, and then started to laugh. 

The turtle turned a confused eye to him. “What is amusing?”

“Oh, uh, it’s nothing, bro,” said Nino, trying and failing to stifle his laughs.

“But we are not related. We are not even of the same species.”

Nino only laughed harder. “You’re hilarious, little guy. So, um.” Nino managed to stop laughing for long enough to return to more relevant topics. “Why’re you here?”

The turtle perked. “Oh! Right! I am Wayzz, the Spirit of the Body, and I am here to grant you magical abilities with which you shall combat Stoneheart and others like him.”

Nino’s eyes shot wide. “Woah, woah, _woah_. Are you saying you want me to be a superhero?”

“Of course. It shall be your duty to protect the people of Paris.”

Nino stared on in confusion, and Wayzz started to worry that the boy was about to panic for real.

* * *

“Aw, you’re so cuuuuuuuuute!” Alya cooed at the small floating fox.

The sprite pulled away from her hands, making retching sounds. “I am not ‘cute’! I am an ancient, immortal god, more powerful than your puny brain can comprehend!”

“A _cute_ ancient immortal god more powerful than blah de blah,” Alya said, reaching out to pet her.

“Don’t touch me, human! You’ll ruin my coat, and my coat is _priceless!_ One strand of fur from my back is worth more than all of your organs on the black market!”

“Can I at least get a picture?” Alya asked, whipping out her phone. “This would look _great_ on Snapchat. Ooh! Or maybe I can make a blog!”

“Fool!” the fox flew forward to cover the camera on her phone. “You are forbidden from letting anyone else know I exist. Hasn’t anybody told you not to meddle in topics you don’t understand? Besides”, she said, brushing back the fur on her head, “some things are too beautiful for images to capture.”

Alya pouted. “Well, fine. Be that way.”

“I’ll be any way I want, thank you,” sneered the fox. “Now, if you’re done assaulting me, we have a job to do.”

Alya’s expression quickly turned disinterested. “Can it wait? I was kinda in the middle of something.”

“No,” the fox said sharply. “Let me put this in perspective, mortal. I, Trixx, the Spirit of the Mind, have, in a fit of altruism, decided to bestow upon you, Alya Césaire of the humans, a portion of my powers, so that you may save your city from magical threats.”

“Why wouldn’t you just do it yourself? Or do you _need_ a human to channel your powers?”

Trixx stared at her with death glare for a full minute. When Alya didn’t back down, she narrowed her humongously-proportioned eyes and said, “Look, do you want to be a superhero or not?”

Alya grinned giddily. “Tell me _everything_.”

* * *

Nino held his breath as he slipped on the bracelet. He trusted Wayzz, but he couldn’t help but think that the jewelry would reject him and cut off the circulation to his hand or something. “I still think there’s been some sort of mistake, dude.”

“I assure you there has been nothing of the sort, master.”

“Okay, yeah, you keep saying that, but, like, I’m nobody. Why would you choose _me_?”

“You were chosen because you are the most qualified to hold the Turtle Miraculous.”

“Yeah, see? That’s the part I don’t get.”

“Are you unconfident in your abilities? I assure you that you will find it comes naturally.”

“No, it’s not that.” Nino paused. “Okay, well, maybe it is that a little. But it’s more that there’s gotta be _someone_ who would be better than me, or at least wants to be a superhero more than I do! I’m just fine with things the way they are.”

Wayzz smiled in a sad sort of way. “I’m afraid your partner the Fox is much more suited towards lies than you are.”

Nino’s throat tightened as he looked away.

“I know you may not feel like the right person for the job,” continued Wayzz, “but you’ve been chosen. You’re the only one who can wear the Miraculous; and you must. Without you, Stoneheart cannot be defeated.”

Nino sighed. “Alright. I’ll give it my best shot. I can do this, right?”

“Of course you can!” Wayzz said happily.

“Yeah. Okay. Let’s do it.”

“Great attitude, master! Though I should probably do some explaining first.”

* * *

“So by playing the three different songs, you can switch between three of my wonderful boons: speed, strength, and flight.”

Alya’s jaw dropped. “I can _fly_? No way! That’s amazing!”

Trixx yawned. “Honestly, it’s not all it’s cracked up to be. But I do agree that I’m amazing. You know, it’s nice to have a chosen who appreciates how great I am.”

Alya’s eye twitched.

* * *

“So I’m like a Ninja Turtle crossed with Captain America?”

“My apologies, master, but I’m afraid I do not understand your allusion. Forgive me.”

Nino raised an eyebrow. “Bro, it’s… you’re fine. Also, could you stop calling me ‘master’? It’s kinda weird.”

“As you wish, master. Oh!” Wayzz covered his tiny mouth with his tiny arms. “My apologies! Forgive me for disobeying your orders!”

Nino’s eye twitched.

* * *

Things were going way too fast, but Alya thought she was doing a respectable job of keeping up. “So, play songs on the flute to use powers, and once I do the illusion thing I’ve only got five minutes before I return to my normal self.”

Trixx nodded. “I know it’s a lot of information for your tiny mortal brain to hold on to, but as you are my chosen, I expect you can handle it.”

“You’re not very humble for a god, you know.”

“And you’re not very stupid for a human.”

“I—thank you?”

“You should. Most people should, really. I do so much for your smelly race, and what do I get in return?”

Trixx looked at Alya expectantly.

“Um. I don’t know, satisfaction from helping people?”

“Incorrect.”

This fox creature was really starting to rub Alya the wrong way. “Alright, so what _do_ you get?”

“Kwami’s sake, Alya, stay on task. That akuma isn’t going to defeat itself.”

* * *

“So we’ve got to find an object, and break it.”

“Precisely. It is always something the victim was wearing or holding when the akuma transformed them, like a pair of glasses, or a hat, or a cane.”

“And once we break it we’re good?”

“Almost. It’s very important you remember to purify the akuma. Your shield can do so, but your partner will not be able to.”

“Right. Okay, I think I’ve got it.” Nino took a deep breath. “Wayzz! Transform me!”

* * *

Alya was both nervous and excited. And hyperventilating. But mostly excited. “Trixx! Transform me!”

* * *

Marinette burst into the stadium. Her head whipped back and forth, causing her pigtails to batter against her cheeks, and groaned. 

Where had that girl _gone_? She could’ve sworn that both Alya _and_ Stoneheart had been heading towards the Parc des Princes, but neither of them were here; only gym class.

“Mlle Dupain-Cheng. How kind of you to join us.” 

Marinette twirled to meet the raised eyebrow of M. D’Argencourt. “Excuse me, sir, but is Alya here? Alya Césaire?”

“I am afraid not; this class is not hers. And neither is it yours, Marinette, so if that will be all, then—”

_“KIIIIIIIIIIIM!”_

Marinette swore the shout blew her hair back, it was so thunderous. She turned her head, saw the bulky stone face of Paris’s newest supervillain, and broke out into a scream.

It wasn’t long before her classmates followed suit, shouting and running away as fast as they could.

“Retreat! Retreat!” M. D’Argencourt shouted, sprinting towards the exit.

Marinette’s entire body was frozen. This was insane! She should have never come here.

“KIIIIIIIM!” the monster roared again, jumping from the side of the arena and landing in front of Kim with a crash powerful enough to knock him to his back. Kim thrust his arms above his head—as if that would do anything—and scrambled back as fast as he could.

Marinette no longer had the luxury to just charge out, not with the monster right there. She ran and threw herself to the ground in a nook created by a break in the bleachers. It wasn’t much, but hopefully it would do until the monster was defeated.

Or, if Alya had been wrong and there wasn’t anyone around to stop it, until it got bored and left.

* * *

Surfing on a magical flying domed shield turned out to be a whole lot easier than Nino had expected. Not to say it was simple—he was wobbling like crazy, and had nearly fallen more times than he was comfortable admitting. He wasn’t super worried, though; if he’d understood Wayzz right, the suit should protect him from most harm, and if he hadn’t understood Wayzz right, then he was fucked, whether he fell or not. So, in his mind, it didn’t really matter too much one way or the other.

It happened to be surprisingly similar to skateboarding. Back in middle school, when skateboarding was still cool, Nino had taught himself the art of the board, and he was grateful for it. He was getting better as time wore on, wobbling less and less. Pretty soon, he would be able to start doing tricks.

But why wait, right?

Smirking, Nino hopped, willing his shield to twirl under him as he did so. It bobbed downwards as he fell back onto it, but he stuck the landing, laughing like a maniac. Man, this was _awesome_! He’d be the coolest dude in Paris in no time.

Nino kneeled down to the shell-shield and grabbed its nose, pulling himself into a loop-de-loop. His grin grew and grew as he corkscrewed and nosedived and flipped, the wind whipping against the little skin that wasn’t covered by his green-yellow suit or his helmet. His feet must have been magnetized to the board or something, because it never fell out from underneath him as long as he was concentrating. Unfortunately, Nino had never been very good at concentrating on anything, so he hoped he wouldn’t have to deal with any surprises until he had some more experience.

It was strange yet also thrilling to have an object that knew exactly what he wanted it to do, and have that object react to his thoughts on a dime. He idly wondered if Wayzz was controlling it. Would that mean Wayzz was inside his mind? “Ugh, creepy,” he mumbled, shaking his head.

Suddenly, a pigeon appeared out of nowhere, right in the way of Nino’s flight path. He let out a yelp and focused all his brainpower on stopping.

And stop he did—upside down.

By the time Nino realized that Paris’s streets were above him, not below him, he was already falling. He screamed like Chloé did when someone messed up her hair, which is to say shrilly and with an acute sense of utter, irreparable despair.

And then someone caught him, bridal-style, still a good thirty feet above the asphalt.

He turned his head towards his savior as nonchalantly as one possible could in such a situation. From what he could see, she had a white mask, red hair with white tips, and… fox ears. Huh.

They stared at each other as she held him. Neither of them looked away as Nino’s shield curved back through the air to his arm, or as she carefully carried them to the nearest rooftop.

“Sup,” Nino said at length, not at all casually.

“Sup,” she returned, staring at him awkwardly.

“So, as comfortable as you holding me like this is, I would appreciate if you would put down at some point.”

The girl blushed and set him down. She was even more fox-like when he could see her fully: her suit was orange, white, and black, mimicking the pattern of a fox’s fur, and she even had a flat fox tail hanging down behind her. The suit was also skintight. Very noticeably skintight. And, he had to admit, the whole animal ears and tail thing was kinda— 

He shook his head to clear his thoughts.

Nino extended his hand. “Thanks for saving my ass back there. The name’s…” he hesitated for a second. “Jade Turtle.” He winked. “But my friends just call me Jade.”

She smirked and took his hand. “Nice to meet, you Jade. I’m Volpina.”

He raised an eyebrow. “Had that ready, huh?”

She rolled her eyes. “It’s basically just ‘fox’ in italian. But it sounds a lot better than ‘orange fox’, I’ll tell you that.”

“Don’t judge me. I didn’t expect to turn into a superhero today.”

“Neither did I.” She grinned. “Let’s do this.”

Nino smiled back. She seemed nice enough.

“Race ya!” he shouted, leaping onto his shell and speeding off. Volpina took off after him, her cheeks only slightly hotter than usual.

* * *

Alya quickly realized that they couldn’t properly race each other if they didn’t know where they were going, but just as she was about to mention it, Stoneheart solved that problem for them.

_“KIIIIIIIIIIM!”_

Both Alya and Jade turned towards the shout, and found themselves speeding towards the Parc de Princes.

Kim… 

Trixx had said, more or less, that the akuma possess someone feeling negative emotions. If the akuma was after Kim, and it was created right as lunch started, then that could mean only one thing: it was that large classmate of hers with the crossbones shirt that the Kim kid had bullied. (So she hadn’t caught his name. Whatever.)

So far, the first impressions of her new classmates were very mixed. Two brats, a couple jocks, an easily angered half-giant, a kind baker’s daughter, a nerd, an aspiring DJ and slacker, and a few shy girls. Most of them seemed nice enough, but that kind of social lineup was just _begging_ for drama. Things were shaping up to be one hell of a year.

When they reached the stadium, Stoneheart was hulking over Kim’s shaking form, one fist raised to punch.

Faster than Alya could follow, Jade leapt off of his shield, grabbed it in one hand, and launched it. It arced down just in time to meet Stoneheart’s punch. The resulting shockwave rattled around inside Alya’s head, but Stoneheart’s fist had stopped cold against the green pattern of Jade’s shield. The monster roared once more and Kim scrambled frantically away as the shield zipped to the side to intercept Jade’s fall. He didn’t stay on it for long, though, dropping to the field and holding the shield out in front of him on his arm.

Stoneheart took one menacing step towards Jade, shaking the entire stadium, but Jade stood his ground. Even so, Alya didn’t like the idea of him taking a punch head-on.

“Song of the Mountain,” she whispered, pulling her flute to her lips. Her fingers ghosted along the holes with a practiced finesse that Alya hadn’t possessed an hour ago, and a tune filled the air. 

The effect was instantaneous. She felt ten times heavier than she had before, the weightlessness of her flight replaced by iron pumping through her muscles. 

Alya grinned as she dropped like a rock.

* * *

Nino’s head snapped upwards as Volpina fell through the air, her flute held high above her head. Now, he didn’t want to sound like a pessimist, but he was doubtful that the stick of wood would do against a giant stone golem.

But when Volpina brought her arms down and slammed her flute against Stoneheart’s head, it came with the force of a bulldozer. One moment Stoneheart looked like he was about to send Nino into low Earth orbit, and the next he was flat on his back, a massive dust cloud billowing out from under him. 

Volpina strutted from the smoke, twirling her flute between her fingers, and Nino began to clap.

“Not bad for your first time.”

“You were supposed to say something like, ‘remind me not to get on your bad side’.”

“Could we compromise at ‘Wow, that was sick’? Or how about a nice and simple ‘Radical!’”

Volpina rolled her eyes, but smiled despite herself. “Who’d’ve thought my superhero partner would be such a dork.”

Behind her, Stoneheart’s fallen body began to glow, and Nino’s jaw dropped. Stoneheart was _growing_. The light spilling out from his body was reabsorbed into it, and he nearly doubled in size. 

“Holy crap.”

“You can stop now, you know,” Volpina said. “Though I do appreciate the praise.”

“No, _holy crap_ ,” Nino repeated, this time pointing behind Volpina.

She turned just as Stoneheart stood up, reaching an impressive amount of stories in height.

“Oh,” she managed. “Did I do that?”

“I bet it absorbs attacks or something. They use that mechanic all the time in anime.”

Volpina turned to give him a glance that was far too judgemental for his taste. “Of course you watch anime.”

“Hey, don’t knock it ‘til you—” Nino stopped short as Stoneheart picked up one of the soccer goals and chucked it at Volpina. “Look out!”

Volpina didn’t waste any time turning around. As soon as Nino shouted, she threw herself to the side, landing face-first in the dirt inches away from where the goal dug divots in the field. Nino watched as the goal bounced back up into the air and soared over his head.

Then a scream tore through the air, and Nino realized what the goal was headed for. Or, more aptly, _who_ it was headed for. He didn’t have time to wonder why on Earth Marinette was still here; he had to act.

“Shell!” he shouted, and the turtle-pattern hexagons on his shield shot towards Marinette. They flew at blinding speeds, yet only reached her about a quarter-second before the net did. Marinette’s scream was quickly muffled as the green hexagons multiplied and rearranged themselves to form a slanted barrier that shielded Marinette from the goal, which bounced harmlessly off of them. 

Volpina let out a huge sigh of relief. Nino would have, too, but in his distraction, Stoneheart grabbed him, squeezing him in his fist. He struggled, but couldn’t break free. Maybe the object he had to break was within reach; if that was the case, he wouldn’t have to worry about escaping Stoneheart’s grip.

Except Stoneheart didn’t seem to be wearing anything, and he wasn’t holding anything either. Well, except for a superhero who was about to be down a pair of lungs if this kept up. And anything that was inside that other fist.

Oh. Well now he just felt stupid.

“Yo, Volpina! I bet the object’s in his fist!”

“Roger that, Turts!” she called back, raising her flute to her lips before Nino realized what she’d just said. “Song of the River!”

Volpina took off sprinting, her legs blurring black-orange. As she reached Stoneheart, she jumped for his closed fist; he opened it to grab her, and a small, balled-up piece of purple paper fell out. Unfortunately, Volpina was trapped now, too, so there wasn’t any way to get the paper. 

Nino turned to her, trying to make it look like his ribcage wasn’t being crushed. “Sup.”

Volpina winked at him and vanished in a puff of smoke.

“The fuck?”

Before Nino could wrap his mind around what he’d just seen, a second Volpina dropped down to the ground in front of him, a wide-eyed Marinette in her arms. 

She winked again. “Sup.”

Nino gaped as she casually walked over to the note and read it aloud to herself. “‘You haven't even got the guts to tell Mylène you love her, wuss.’” Volpina recoiled. “Ouch.”

Ouch was right. That wasn’t something you should be teasing anyone about, but _especially_ someone like Ivan. Kim really needed to get brought down a few pegs.

Volpina tore the note in two and a small, black butterfly emerged. Nino inhaled a deep breath of air as he was released, and he got up just in time to see Stoneheart fall apart, leaving a very confused Ivan behind.

Nino walked up to Volpina and held out his palm, which she happily high-fived.

“Nice job,” Nino said.

“Nice job.”

“So, uh. How’d you do that?”

“Oh, well, my power makes illusions and stuff. I switched out with a double in the smoke cloud.”

Nino nodded. “Smart.”

Volpina smiled at him.

A beeping interrupted their conversation, and Volpina looked down at her necklace. Zigzagged lines of silver separated the orange pendant into five sections, and the topmost one flickered and died to black. 

“Oh, right, we only have five minutes after using our powers,” said Nino. He looked at his bracelet; it was still displaying a full five hexagons, but he knew that would change soon. “Guess we better capture the akuma and split.”

Volpina’s face lit up. “Right, the akuma! How could I forget?”

“Well, good thing turtles have a great memory.”

“Isn’t that more of an elephant thing?”

“It can be both. Now, where is it?”

“You mean that black butterfly thing?” Marinette asked.

Nino had forgotten she was still there. “Uh, yeah.”

“It flew off a while ago.” 

There was a beat of silence.

Immediately, Volpina had Marinette by the shoulders, and was death-staring her straight down the eye. “What? Where? Where did it go?”

“I—uh—I don’t know?”

Nino let his head fall onto his hands, the edge of the visor of his helmet cutting into his palms. “Great. First day on the job, and we’re gonna get all of Paris destroyed.”

Meanwhile, Volpina had yet to let go of Marinette. “If you see it, or hear about anyone seeing it, or, hell, I don’t know, _read_ about it or something, tell us, alright? I’m Volpina, he’s Jade Turtle. Got it?”

Judging by her bewildered facial expression, Marinette did not got it, but she dumbly nodded anyway.

“Cool. We gotta split.” Volpina played a quick tune on her flute and took to the skies, and Nino followed right behind her.

* * *

All five of the Césaires had managed to crowd around the television on nothing more than a single couch and an armchair. Alya wasn’t entirely sure she wanted to be watching this, but her mother had insisted, so there she was, making herself as small as possible on the sofa and hoping that the armrest digging into her side wouldn’t leave a mark.

“This just in, the stone monster that has been terrorizing Paris was defeated at the Parc des Princes. We’ve got Phil on the scene right now. To you, Phil.”

The feed cut to a reporter in the stadium standing next to a nervous looking Marinette. “Thanks, Nadja. Turns out we have an eye witness right here; she says she saw the entire fight!”

Phil held the microphone out to Marinette, who blinked twice and uttered a surprised “Oh!” before she began talking. “Yeah, um, that’s right. It was kinda crazy.”

“Could you tell us a bit about Paris’s newest superheroes?”

“W-well, uh, their names are Volpina and Jade Turtle, and they have super powers, obviously, and they saved my life.”

“Sweet!” Phil said enthusiastically. “Now, tell us about the fight! And be thorough!”

As Marinette began to describe the battle in fierce detail, Alya’s father gave a harrumph. “This is crazy-talk. Superheroes? Magic?”

“Did you _see_ Stoneheart, Dad? That thing wasn’t _fake_!” Alya protested.

“Woah, look at that!” Alya’s sister, Ella, pointed at the TV with wide eyes. The camera had zoomed in on the fallen soccer goal, which was lying upside-down. 

Marinette’s voice was still talking in the background. “Yeah, that thing nearly hit me! It was kind of terrifying, but Jade Turtle and Volpina saved me, so I’m alright.”

“Wow! It’s so cool to have real superheroes in Paris!” Ella said.

“But it’s so scary to have real supervillains…” said Etta, the other twin, hugging her mother a little bit tighter.

As the television cut to Mayor Bourgeois saying something about how he totally had the situation under control, Alya jumped from the couch and excused herself to her room.

* * *

Nino collapsed face-first on his bed. “Ugh, I feel so stupid. I should’ve captured the akuma as soon as it was free!”

Wayzz flew from out under his cap and sat next to his face. “Exactly! You’re learning already!”

“But, I really fucked things up. I knew I wouldn’t be good at this.”

“I won’t lie, it is a problem,” Wayzz said, “but it was your first time. Nobody can expect you to be perfect. Besides, you did very well fighting Stoneheart.”

“Did I really, though?”

“Nino, if you hadn’t been there, what would have become of your friend Kim? Or Marinette?”

Nino paused for a few moments before responding. “I’ll fix this mess I made, but once there’s no immediate threat, I’m going to have to think about whether I really want to do this.”

Wayzz nodded sagely. “That is fair. I can ask no more than that you do your best, and that you do what you feel is right.” Wayzz paused for a moment, looking down at his stomach. “Not to change the subject, but there is something you must know about my power. After each transformation, kwami need to regain their energy before they can transform again. This energy comes in the form of a specific food.”

Nino pushed himself into a sitting position. “Kay, that makes sense. What do you eat?”

“Oh. Well, um.” Wayzz’s green face tinted red. “It’s rather embarrassing.”

Nino raised an eyebrow.

“It’s just… I don’t want to seem like I only eat the finest, royalest foods, you understand?”

“Dude, I seriously doubt I care.”

Wayzz sighed. “It’s… chocolate.”

Nino broke out laughing.

“See? This is exactly what I was afraid of!”

“No, no, that’s not it, I swear,” Nino said between giggles. “It’s just—that was only considered royal thousands of years ago. Dude, you can get a bag of chocolates for like four euros at CVS.”

“Well, I was there thousands of years ago, and let me tell you, chocolate was not easy to come by.” Wayzz crossed his arms petulantly. “Forgive me for being slow to adapt.”

“Maybe it’s because you’re a turtle.”

“I am not a turtle,” Wayzz said. “I am a _kwami_.”

“That looks like a turtle.”

“Turtles are sacred animals, Nino. You should show respect.”

Nino quickly raised his hands in mock surrender. “I’m not bashing turtles! Turtles are awesome, man. I’m psyched to be half turtle now.”

Wayzz took on a thoughtful expression. “It’s not… _half_ turtle, exactly. More like two nineteenths turtle.”

“Same diff,” Nino said, heading out of his room. “I’ll go get you some kisses.”

“Wouldn’t that be considered crude in your culture?”

Nino laughed again. This guy was _hilarious_. “They’re a type of chocolate, dude. Chill out.”

The door to Nino’s room closed, and Wayzz was left to wonder if this was Fu’s way of telling him to get with the times.

* * *

When Alya arrived in her room, she sat down before her favorite thing in the world: her computer. Sighing with exhaustion, she slumped in her chair and prepared for a nice, relaxing time.

“I must say, the whole illusion gambit was above average for a first time, but the whole failing to capture the akuma thing brings your score down to a rather average six out of ten.”

Alya scowled at the fox kwami who had landed in front of her monitor. “Oh, crap, Trixx. I forgot something.”

Trixx tilted her head. “You mean besides the akuma?”

“Mmhmm,” Alya hummed.

“This could affect your score. What is it you didn’t remember?”

The girl leaned forward, her face a blanket of apathy. “Asking for your opinion.”

Trixx didn’t so much as frown. “Well, good thing I gave it to you anyway, huh? It’s a valuable asset. You’re lucky I’m not charging you.” Trixx laid herself back on Alya’s desk, folding her arms behind her bulbous head. 

Maybe she’d been created with a big head as a metaphor.

“Now, if you’re not too busy, I could really go for a snack right now.”

Alya crossed her arms. “Why can’t you get it yourself?”

“Because any non-chosen catches on fire if they even so much as glimpse my beauty. I wouldn’t want to endanger your family.”

“That’s a lie.”

“Only the bit about the fire. I was telling the truth about endangering your parents if they saw me. And about my beauty. I am quite beautiful.” She opened one eyelid to give Alya a condescending look. “Not that you have an eye for that sort of thing.”

“Ugh, fine. What do you eat?”

“Popcorn.”

“Popcorn?”

“You heard me.”

Alya briefly contemplated rat poison, but decided against it.

Ten minutes later, Alya begrudgingly handed Trixx a bowl of popcorn.

“Alright, spill. Why popcorn?”

“It’s metaphorical. The lives of you humans are short, drama-filled, and always have a predictable ending, just like a movie.” She popped a kernel in her mouth. “Also it’s tasty.”

“So… what did you eat before popcorn was invented?”

“I’d tell you, but then I’d have to kill you.”

“That’s a lie.”

Trixx only shrugged.

The handle to the door of Alya’s room jiggled. Alya jerked her head behind her and saw he mother about to enter. When she glanced back to to her desk, Trixx was nowhere in sight.

“Hey, honey?”

“Yeah Mom?”

“You might want to see this.” She gestured back to the family room, where Alya could hear the vague drone of the television.

Curious, Alya followed Marlena. She gasped as she saw the TV, quickly leaning over the back of the couch for a better look. Her eyes blew wide.

That was a _lot_ of Stonehearts.


	2. Stoneheart

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which Ivan has butterflies in his stomach, both literally and figuratively.

Nadja Chamack stood next to a picture of one of the Stoneheart clones, her voice crackling over Nino’s small TV. “The stone beings are scattered all over Paris, and, for the time being, they are showing no signs of movement.”

The camera cut to the mayor, who was trying his best to look professional even though he clearly had no idea what was going on. “We won't stop until we find a way to get these people back to their normal selves. But for now, we're, uh… not making much headway.”

“Paris is in a state of distress,” Nadja continued, back in the studio. “Citizens are holding out hope that rumored superheroes Volpina and Jade Turtle will arrive to save the day.”

Nino cringed as the green screen displayed a photo someone had taken on their phone of him as Jade Turtle; specifically, right after he’d fallen from his shell and Volpina had caught him. 

That just _had_ to be the picture they used, didn’t it?

“This is not good,” Wayzz commented from Nino’s shoulder. “We must make sure your friend Ivan does not grow angry again.”

Nino muted the TV and tilted his head towards the kwami. “Is he tied to all the extra Stonehearts?”

Wayzz nodded. “When he was possessed by the akuma, they became linked. Since you failed to capture and purify the akuma”—Nino flinched at that, but Wayzz didn’t notice—“it multiplied, sending out copies of itself to possess more hosts. Because the original bonded with Ivan, he is the only one capable of controlling the copies. If he were to become akumatized once more, all the other Stonehearts would wake up.”

“So, make sure Ivan stays happy.”

“Correct.”

Nino let out a weary breath. _Easier said than done. Ivan’s about as cheerful as Juleka, even when he’s not recovering from evil magical mind control._

“Nino! You’re going to be late for school!” called his mother from downstairs.

He rolled his eyes. Not for any particular reason, really—he actually appreciated the warning—but he had made it a habit. “I’m going!” he yelled back, grabbing a textbook and stuffing it in his bag.

* * *

When Nino entered the school, there was a group of kids clustering around one bench. Curious, he approached, but stopped short when he saw Ivan sulking on the bench, looking quite unhappy to be in the spotlight. The attention made sense: who wouldn’t be interested in what it felt like to be turned into a supervillain? Nino probably would’ve been there, too, had circumstances been any different. None of that made it any better, though.

“They should really give him some space.”

Nino turned to see the new girl—Alya?—standing next to him, looking at their classmates with a tangible disdain.

“Totally,” he replied. “I mean, I get that they don’t mean any harm, but it’s still not cool.”

“Well, I’m glad _someone_ gets it. I can’t imagine how Ivan feels about all—” Alya stopped dead in her tracks, and began to emit a low growling sound that Nino hadn’t known humans were capable of.

Nino followed her gaze; Chloé, Sabrina forever at her coattails, was strutting towards the group. 

Well, shit.

“You were seriously out to crush me, dude!” commented Kim.

Ivan looked away. “I’m sorry, I wasn’t myself…”

Nino felt like he was watching a trainwreck as Chloé scoffed and waved a hand at him. “Yeah, right. Once a monster, _always_ a monster.”

For a second, Nino thought Ivan was going to send Chloé through a wall—clenched fists, slanted eyebrows, murderous look on his face—but he didn’t. Instead, he launched from the bench and shoved past his classmates, running to the locker rooms.

“Don’t let the door hit you on the way out!” Chloé called, laughing with Sabrina as Ivan ran off.

Nino watched in both awe and fear as a fire lit behind Alya’s eyes. “Why, that little…” she muttered, rolling up her sleeves and marching forward.

But Nino didn’t get to stay and watch the fireworks. Ivan was just about to disappear from sight when Nino heard a whisper from under his hat. “Nino! You need to make sure Ivan doesn’t get akumatized!”

“Right,” he whispered back, taking off after his classmate. “How do I do that?”

“You’re a good person, Nino. Trust yourself.”

Wayzz offered nothing more as Nino entered the locker room. Ivan was there, slumped against the lockers; Nino sat down next to him.

“Hey, man, you okay?”

Ivan sighed. “It’s Kim. He’s always teasing me.”

“About Mylène, right?”

Ivan jolted. “W-what?” He narrowed his eyes angrily. “Did Kim tell you?”

“N-no! I’m just a, uh, really observant guy. I doubt anybody else knows, dude.”

Ivan seemed to calm down, and Nino felt the tension leave his shoulders, if only for a second. This was worse than Minesweeper.

“You should really tell her you like her, though. I’m pretty sure she feels the same way.”

Ivan looked down. “I’m no good with words.”

“Pff, who needs words? There’s, like, a million different ways to tell someone you like them. Like music! That’s always my go-to.”

“Music…” Ivan seemed to light up. “I could write her a song!”

Nino punched him softly in the shoulder. “Go for it, dude! You’ll do great!”

Ivan smiled at him and got up. “Thanks, Nino.”

Nino watched him go with a grin.

Wayzz zoomed out from his hat. “Mission accomplished! Good job, Nino.”

“I’m just glad he’s happy again.”

Wayzz laughed a bit. “And you thought you were unfit to be a hero.”

He phased back into Nino’s hat just as the warning bell rang, and Nino jogged to class.

* * *

“Why, that little…” Alya muttered, rolling up her sleeves and stalking towards Chloé. “How could you say that to Ivan? You're the _real_ Stoneheart.”

Chloé rolled her eyes. “Ugh, so _I'm_ the one who broke Sabrina's dad's arm, am I?” She took a step forward, cocked her hip, and poked Alya in the chest. “Look, newbie, maybe you haven’t gotten the message yet, but you have no right to speak me like that.”

Alya’s face grew hot, and she squeezed her fists so hard they hurt. “You little bit—”

“Look out, she's angry!” cried Chloé, waving her arms in mock terror. “She's going to split her underwear and turn into a huge muscle-y monster!”

“What, afraid of me stealing your look?” Alya spat. “What gives you the right to push people around like that?!”

Chloé’s eyes shone with bloodlust, and she stormed towards Alya, forcing her to take a few steps back. “Excuse you, but _I_ am _Chloé Bourgeois,_ and _I’ll_ do whatever I _please!_ So drop the _superhero_ act, or I’ll—”

Without warning, all of Chloé’s anger vanished. “Oh, he’s here!” she squealed, looking over Alya’s shoulder. “Move it, dweeb, Adrien’s here!”

Chloé violently shoved Alya out of the way and barreled through the courtyard. Alya turned in confusion just in time to see her latch herself onto some poor blond boy.

“Adrikins! You came!”

Whispers started throughout the courtyard. The whispers turned to gasps, then to shouts, then to squeals, and suddenly Alya found herself being run over by a significant percentage of the female student body.

“Adrien! Adrien! Can I have your autograph?”

“Adrien, can I hold your hand? Just once?”

“I saw your swimsuit photoshoot, Adrien! I want to rub my face on your abs!”

Alya sighed and dropped her face into her hands. There was an actual, literal teenage supermodel in her class.

_Paris._

“Hey, Alya. What’s all the fuss about?”

Alya turned to Marinette, and instantly perked up. “Oh, just some teen model Chloé knows. Apparently he has a fan club.” Alya raised her eyebrow at the pile of girls surrounding the boy. “Or maybe it’s more of a harem.”

Marinette rolled her eyes. “Ugh. Isn’t Chloé and Sabrina enough already?”

Alya took her by the shoulder and led her away from the crowd. “Come on, let’s not dwell on that. Especially not when we have to talk about you meeting real life superheroes!”

Marinette blushed. “W-well, I didn’t really meet them. I kinda just got in their way—”

“Oh, hush. What do you think of them? They must be super cool.”

“They are! They were really impressive. Jade Turtle even saved my life. Or, well, probably not my life, but I might’ve broken a leg or something. The important part is that he saved me.”

“Mmhmm. And what about the fox one? Vulponi or something?” Alya smirked internally. She was _nailing_ this secret identity thing.

“Volpina, yeah. She did some cool illusion thing I still don’t entirely understand. I got to fly with her!”

Alya forced a look of shock onto her face. “Woah, really? That’s so cool, girl!”

“It was, yeah. I’m sorry you didn’t get to meet them, I know you really wanted to.”

“I’m sure I’ll get my chance sometime.” Alya paused as the warning bell blared, and the sounds of students shuffling their ways to class overtook the courtyard. “Duty calls,” Alya said, earning a giggle from Marinette as they walked to class.

They had apparently been talking for longer than they thought, for most of their class were already at their seats by the time Marinette and Alya entered the classroom. In fact, it looked like only Ivan was missing.

Oh, shit, Ivan! Alya had been so mad at Chloé she’d forgotten to make sure he didn’t get akumatized again! 

“Hey! What are you doing?”

Alya was drawn back to her senses at Marinette’s outburst. The supermodel boy from the courtyard was fiddling with a piece of gum attached to Alya and Marinette’s seat, and jumped at Marinette’s voice.

“Oh—um—I was just—”

Chloé and Sabrina broke out laughing. Alya narrowed her eyes at Chloé; Chloé stuck out her tongue.

“Oh, I see,” Marinette said flatly. “Very funny, you three.”

Adrien spluttered. “No, wait, I was just trying to take this off!”

“Uh huh. You’re friends with _Chloé,_ right?” Marinette spat the name.

“Why does everyone keep saying that?” Adrien murmured, returning to his seat.

Marinette took a napkin from her purse and laid it over the gum, and the two of them slid onto the bench. 

“Ugh. Now we’ve got three of them to deal with.” Marinette scrolled through her phone. “Aha! I knew I’d seen him before! He’s the son of my fav designer, Gabriel Agreste!”

“You’re into fashion?”

“Mmhmm! I’ve been drawing designs since I was a little girl. I like to think I’m pretty good at it—see, I even made this purse myself!”

Alya looked at the bag. She was impressed, to say the least. “Wow, girl, no kidding! This looks pro!”

Marinette positively glowed at the praise. “You really think so?” She drooped down again just as quickly, though. “Man, it sucks that Adrien’s a jerk. He’d probably have some great advice.”

“Hey, don’t jump to conclusions. I think Chloé might’ve set him up. He doesn’t really look like the cruel type.”

Marinette began counting on her fingers. “Daddy’s boy, rich and famous, friends with Chloé—I think it’s a lost cause.”

Alya shrugged. “If you say so. At least he’s got a pretty face, right?”

Marinette sighed and rolled her eyes, but, Alya noticed, didn’t deny it.

* * *

Nino watched in pity as Adrien flopped down next to him, sighing. “First day at school, and two of my classmates already hate me.”

Nino looked at him for a few seconds, trying to figure him out. “Why didn’t you tell her that it was Chloé’s idea?”

Adrien slumped forward onto his arms. “I’ve known Chloé for forever; I can’t just throw her under the bus like that. She’s, like, my only friend.”

Wow. That was sad.

“Well, I’m Nino, and I think it’s time you got some new friends.”

Adrien smiled the happiest-looking smile that Nino had ever seen, and in that moment, Nino realized why he was a model.

Shortly after that, Mme Bustier gathered the class’s attention and began roll call. “Adrien Agreste?”

The boy got a deer-in-headlights look, and Nino whispered to him, “You say ‘present.’”

Adrien jumped to his feet and thrust his hand in the air. “Present!”

Nino facepalmed as the class broke into giggles, and Adrien, now blushing furiously, quickly sat back down.

Mme Bustier gave a small smile, but otherwise continued on as if nothing had happened.

“Chloé Bourgeois?”

“Present,” she sing-songed.

“Ivan Bruel?”

Shrieks rang out as Stoneheart did his best Kool-Aid Man impression, punching through the classroom door and barging inside.

“PRESENT!” he bellowed, blowing back the hair of the students closest to him. 

Stoneheart’s eyes scanned the room. 

“Mylène!” he exclaimed, grabbing the girl in one of his hands.

Mylène struggled against his hold, but wasn’t having much success. “Let go of me, Ivan!”

“I’m not Ivan anymore. I’m Stoneheart!”

“Why are you _doing_ this?”

“So we can be together forever!”

Chloé made a retching sound.

Stoneheart’s gaze snapped to her, and her eyes blew wide with fear. (Not regret, though. She didn’t have the capacity for it.)

He took a thunderous step across the room, snatched up a screaming, whining Chloé in his free hand, and leapt through the window onto the street below.

Nino allowed the flood of students to carry him out of the newly enlarged classroom door. What had gone wrong? Had Mylène rejected him? Had Nino given bad advice? Ugh, how was he supposed to keep everyone in Paris happy? Unless they could find Hawk Moth, this charade would go on forever.

In the mess of students, shouting, and general confusion, Nino slipped into the bathroom. As soon as he shut the door, Wayzz flew out from under his cap.

“Man, I screwed up, didn’t I?”

“You did everything you could. And now you must do everything you can to save your friends! And the Bourgeois girl.”

Nino laughed. “Unfortunately. Wayzz, transform me!”

Nino felt the alien tingling sensation cover his body once again—strange, but not unpleasant. First came the shield, materializing on his back; the padded green suit spread out from there, covering him all the way up to his neck and down to his ankles. The helmet appeared over his head, it’s dark visor obscuring his eyes, and heavy, dark green combat boots replaced his sneakers.

When the transformation completed, he burst from the bathroom, breezed down the hall, and leapt out of the hole Stoneheart had made into the afternoon air.

* * *

Alya needed to transform. This posed a problem; Marinette, sweet girl that she was, was giving a concerted effort to make sure the two of them stayed together in the crowd of panicked teenagers. It was a kind gesture, Alya supposed, but it meant she was having trouble finding some place isolated where she could transform. She tried—really, really tried—to lose Marinette in the crowd, but she clung like a leech. Eventually, Alya had no choice but to leave the school, or else risk Marinette getting suspicious.

Once they reached the sidewalk outside of the building, Alya stopped, and turned to Marinette. She was panting, hunched over with her hands on her knees. “This is crazy. Wasn’t Stoneheart already defeated? Why is he back?”

“Dunno. But, uh, I’m going to go check it out—superheroes and stuff, you know? You probably should just go home or something.”

Marinette crossed her arms. “Why? Because it’s dangerous?”

“Yep.”

“So why are _you_ going?”

“Because I want to see the superheroes, duh! You already got to see them, girl, it’s my turn!”

“Fine, but I’m coming with you.”

Crap.

“Sure you don’t want to get somewhere safe?” Alya said hopefully.

“Not if you’re going to be out _there!"_ Marinette gestured grandly towards the sounds of destruction in the distance. “We’re friends now, and friends stick together, right? It’ll be safer with two of us.”

 _Damn_ , thought Alya. Why did Marinette have to be so… so nice, and genuine? Alya wanted to scream.

That wouldn’t be very tactful, though, so she smiled instead. “Right. Come on, then.”

The last thing Alya wanted to do was drag Marinette, the only friend she had so far, into the whole supervillain fighting business, but she didn’t have much of a choice. With any luck, Mari would get cold feet once she was face to face Stoneheart again. 

The two of them followed the sounds of shouts, destruction, and car alarms until Alya spotted Jade Turtle hovering in the sky, across a row of buildings.

“There!” Alya said, pointing. “Last chance to back out.”

“As tempting as that sounds,” Marinette said over the crash of car against asphalt, “somebody’s gotta make sure you don’t get hurt.”

“You’re too nice for your own good. Just make sure you know when to run.”

With that, Alya crossed through an alleyway and into the fray.

Jade Turtle was on top of one of the buildings, facing off against a pair of Stoneheart clones. He launched his shield towards the closest Stoneheart, hitting him across the face with a satisfying _smack_ that snapped the giant’s head to the side. Marinette let out a small whoop beside her, but Alya knew better; as the shield looped back to Jade, light poured from between Stoneheart’s joints, and he grew. Alya saw Jade’s lips move—she was too far away to hear, but she would bet he’d muttered something colorful. 

The second Stoneheart moved quickly, grabbing two parked cars in his hands and throwing one at Jade. He dodged it by leaping off the building onto his shield, but Stoneheart threw the other car immediately after, and it headed straight at Jade. With no time to get out of the way, Jade pulled his shield up; the car crumpled against it like paper, not moving Jade as much as a centimeter, but without his shield to ride on, Jade fell hard to the ground. The Stoneheart behind him took advantage of his mistake and scooped him up, his stone fingers wrapping around Jade’s upper body. He shouted muffled insults and kicked his legs furiously, but it did no good.

Alya cursed. She had to ditch Marinette.

Fortunately, the girl was way ahead of her, words spilling from her mouth as she tugged on Alya’s sleeve. “Alright, you saw your superhero, I think it’s time we—” 

Marinette cut herself off with a scream as she came face to face with a third Stoneheart blocking their escape. He roared and grabbed at them, but Alya was quicker, taking Marinette’s arm and wrenching her away. 

Alya shoved her down the street. “Go!”

She did—until she noticed Alya wasn’t following her.

“Alya?”

Alya ran in the opposite direction, towards a different, hopefully-not-Stoneheart-infested alley. Unfortunately, she would have to run right past the one holding Jade to get there.

“Alya, what are you—” 

Marinette’s shout broke into a yelp. Alya twirled—two cars were trapping Marinette against the side of a building, no doubt knocked there by a Stoneheart. Suddenly, with a horrible grating sound, one of the cars lurched, sliding down the side of the building. Marinette cried out, but, much to Alya’s relief, the car caught on a window sill and stalled. But judging from all the creaks and groans, Alya couldn’t be sure for how much longer.

With newfound determination, she bolted down the street. A stone fist snatched at her, but she rolled under it. She scrambled to her feet, swerved into an alleyway, and called on Trixx to transform her.

As soon as she felt the suit around her body, she grabbed her flute and put it to her lips so fast she almost chipped a tooth. 

“Song of the Wind!”

Alya flew out of the alleyway just as Stoneheart turned into it. She soared across the rooftops until she was above Marinette. 

“Song of the River,” she said as she dropped to the pavement.

She had to give it to Trixx: she knew how to name superpowers. It felt like rapids were flowing through her veins, whipping her limbs where she wanted them to go faster than she could tell them to move. 

With two swift motions of her flute, she sent the cars encasing Marinette toppling away. Then, before any of the Stonehearts could notice, she picked up Marinette and ran, dropping her off a few blocks off.

“You okay?”

“I-I think so,” Marinette managed, still recovering from the shock. “Oh! My friend Alya, you have to—”

“Already saved her,” Alya said quickly. “Stay safe, and try not to let this happen a third time, ‘kay?”

“R-right.”

Alya smiled at her one last time before returning to the fight. The Stoneheart still had Jade, and was struggling to remove Jade’s Miraculous with his bulky fingers. If the situation weren’t as serious, Alya probably would’ve just sat back and watched—no matter how he went about it, Stoneheart couldn’t get the proper traction on the bracelet, and only managed to twist it around Jade’s wrist some.

Alya began her charge just as Stoneheart started trying to shake the Miraculous off of him. She launched from the road at the akuma’s chest, and switched to the Song of the Mountain mid-air. The water in her veins hardened to lead, and she slammed into Stoneheart like a wrecking ball. He lost his grip on Jade as he tumbled head-over-ass backwards, and Jade landed awkwardly on the concrete, flashing Alya a grateful smile.

She tossed him his shield. “You dropped this.”

“Thanks. Let’s ditch this place before stone-face finishes his growth spurt.” He jumped on his shield and sped off, Alya not far behind. 

“You know,” Alya mentioned casually, “I think that makes it three times that I’ve saved you.”

“Are you saying I need to up my game, or are you just fishing for compliments?”

Alya scoffed. “The nerve. Maybe I’m just making an observation.”

Jade rolled his eyes. “Well, sorry I’m causing you so much trouble.”

He touched down on the roof of an apartment building and moved his shield to his arm. There was a screen on the inside of it, which he tapped at.

Alya floated sideways next to him, propping her head up with one arm as she bobbed up and down in the air. “It’s no trouble at all, really. Anything for you.”

Jade just kind of looked at her.

She winked. 

His eyebrow rose.

She coughed. “So, what are you doing there?”

He stared for another half a second before responding. “Well, I’m trying to figure out how to get this phone thingie to—oh!” The screen in his shield lit up with an overhead map of Paris. A blinking red dot was slowly approaching the Eiffel Tower. “Aha! There’s the original Stoneheart.”

“Going right to the source, eh?”

He nodded. “I think it’s a safer bet than fighting all these copies.”

“Well, what are we waiting for? There’s a city to save!”

She flashed him an award-winning smile and flipped backwards in the air, shooting off towards the Tower.

* * *

It turned out that local law enforcement had beaten them to the scene. Police cars and makeshift barricades lined a semicircle a generously safe distance from the Tower, and Mayor Bourgeois stood at the forefront, armed with a microphone and his sense of authority.

“I _demand_ my daughter’s safe return!”

“Does he actually think Stoneheart’s just gonna hand her over?” Alya muttered.

“You know what?” Stoneheart bellowed. “You’re welcome to her!”

Stoneheart wound back his arm, and Chloé began to shrieked.

“And you jinxed it,” Jade said, crouching low and moving one hand to the rim of his shell.

Stoneheart slung his hand forward, and Chloé’s started to say something; maybe a prayer of some sort? Alya couldn’t make it out. Jade instantly whipped his shield towards Chloé, and Volpina sped forward to catch him before he fell. His shield swooped down and intercepted Chloé’s fall; at first, she looked surprised, but quickly crossed her arms and huffed.

“I didn’t promise.”

Alya lowered herself and Jade to the ground as Jade dumped Chloé into her father’s arms and reattached his shield to his arms. 

“You should’ve dropped her on the ground.”

Jade laughed. “Dude, I wish. But I don’t wanna get on the Mayor’s bad side.”

Alya sighed. He was probably right. Still, what point was there to superpowers if you didn’t use them irresponsibly? Why else would they give these powers to _teenagers_? That was practically _asking_ for drama and pettiness.

Behind them, a police officer with the broken arm—Sabrina’s father, judging from what Chloé had said earlier today—barked out an order for attack.

Volpina turned and thrust a hand out at him. “Wait, hold your fire! You know it’ll only make it worse!”

“I have a new plan, unlike you! Move aside and let the pros do their thing. You've already failed once!” 

Alya’s face took on a nasty color. “A plan, huh? Well, listen here, officer know-it-all. One, he’s made entirely out of stone, so good luck with bullets; two, he grows stronger with every attack, so, as I _said_ , the only thing you’ll do is make it harder for us; three, he’s carrying a _hostage_ , so I’m pretty sure you’re breaking code by shooting; and four, _I am a professional!"_

The officer rolled his eyes and held up his hands. “Fine, fine, we won’t shoot. Cool it, lady. Now, what are _you_ going to—huh?” He stopped short, staring at something behind her.

Alya turned around and gasped. Stoneheart, midway up the tower, belched out a swarm of black butterflies and then promptly toppled over backwards. The akumas flocked together to form the shape of a masked man’s head. Frankly, it was one of the most disturbing things she’d ever seen in person, just below that one time her sister Ella had eaten an entire pack of twinkies in thirty seconds. But she didn’t like to talk about that.

“People of Paris, listen carefully,” said the head. “I am Hawk Moth.”

“And you thought Jade Turtle was a stupid name,” Jade muttered. Alya let out a giggle, but didn’t take her eyes off Hawk Moth.

“Volpina, Jade Turtle, give me the fox necklace and the turtle bracelet now. You’ve done enough damage to these innocent people.”

Jade scoffed loudly, and Alya turned to see him walking towards the Eiffel Tower, his arms crossed. “You’re painting _us_ as the bad guys after you turned all these people into ugly piles of rocks? Not cool, dude.” 

“You _will_ give me your miraculouses, or else!” roared the head.

“Or else what?” Jade shouted, throwing his arms in the air. “You’ll take them by force?” His gaze darkened. _"Try us."_

He launched forward. His shield swept under him and spiked upwards, and he leapt from it, the combined force sending him all the way up to Hawk Moth’s height. His shield flew back up into his hands, and the surface peeled back to reveal a glowing white center. Alya’s mouth dropped open and then curved into an uncontrollable smile as, with a series of warcries, Jade threw his shield out towards the akumas. It flew out and then came back like a boomerang, and Jade was always there to catch it on the backswing. It sliced through the akumas as Hawk Moth bellowed a long, overdramatic “NOOOOOO!” and, in a matter of seconds, the akumas were gone, leaving Jade standing triumphantly on his shield in the middle of the sky.

Alya smirked and turned to the police officer, whose expression was equal parts awe and jealousy, and winked. “Leave it to the pros next time, officer.”

Jade wasn’t done, though; he released a flurry of pure white butterflies, pumped his fist high into the air, and shouted for all he was worth. “VIVA LA FRANCE!”

On the ground, the crowd erupted into a cheer, and Alya couldn’t help but break into a laugh. He may be a total dork, but he was a funny, adorable, dependable dork.

Alya’s eyes widened. 

Was she blushing?

Oh.

Oh, _fuck_. This had _not_ been in the plan.

“Help!” Mylène shouted from halfway up the Eiffel as Stoneheart began to climb again. “I’m scared of heights!”

Alya drained the rogue blood from her cheeks with the force of sheer will and shook her head vigorously. She had a job to do, dammit, and she could worry about how to woo her superhero partner later.

She leapt from the pavement and into the sky, the wind rushing to catch her and carry her towards Stoneheart. Jade, back on his shield, met her in the air.

“Alright,” he said, voice calculative. “We know the akuma’s in his fist, so all we gotta do is get him to open it.”

“And?”

“And what?”

“And how are we going to do that? It’s not like we can just ask him nicely, and I don’t have the space up here to knock it out of him.”

“I dunno.” Jade shrugged. “Maybe surprise him or something? Could Mylène help?”

Alya felt a lightbulb go off. “Oh! She totally could!”

“Really? I was just spitballing.”

“No, no, trust me. Go get his attention.”

“Done.” 

As Jade sped off to antagonize Stoneheart, Alya settled on one of the tower’s support beams. Out of the corner of her eye, she saw Jade weave between attacks from Stoneheart, but she put it out of her mind, bringing her flute to her mouth.

“Fox’s—woah!” 

The whole tower shook, and Alya stumbled, catching herself in the air. She breathed a sigh of relief; thank god she hadn’t switched off flight. The tower shook again, and she looked down: droves of Stoneheart clones were swarming and climbing the tower. _Better do this quickly, then._

“Fox’s cunning!”

Haunting music flowed from the instrument, and a hazy orange smoke poured from the end, twisting through the air towards Mylène. When it reached her, Alya concentrated, envisioning what she wanted Stoneheart to see.

Without warning, Mylène twisted out of Stoneheart’s grip, reached up, and kissed him on the cheek.

Alya could practically see Stoneheart’s pupils turn to hearts. He jolted as if struck by lightning, and his hand popped open, the akumatized paper tumbling from it. Mylène—the real one, not the one Alya had created—yelped in surprise, but managed to grab onto one of Stonehearts fingers before she fell.

“Song of the Mountain,” Alya whispered, landing back on the iron beam. It was still shaking, so she grabbed onto a vertical girder for support and hoped it would be enough.

“Jade!” she shouted, leaning against the tower’s jostling. “I’m gonna need a safety net!”

She didn’t offer any more explanation—didn’t have time—but hoped he’d get the message. Eyes trained on the falling piece of crumpled paper, Alya drew back her hand, waited until her footing was at least somewhat level, and threw her flute like a javelin. It speared the paper through, and it crumpled, the akuma flapping wildly as it was forced out. 

Jade, apparently, had gotten the message, because a glowing green platform of hexagons materialized in the air, catching the falling Mylène and Ivan much more softly than Alya would expect from an impregnable force field.

Alya jumped onto it, picking up her discarded flute. Jade joined her a second later, capturing and releasing the akuma.

Then, suddenly, a stream of green… _somethings_ shot from Jade’s shield, causing both of them to jump back in alarm. 

“What the hell?”

“Are those—” Alya squinted. “ _Turtles_?”

Alya had seen a lot of strange today, but this took the cake. Thousands of tiny green turtles, swimming through the air. They swirled around her until they were all that she could see, and when they cleared, she, Jade, Ivan, and Mylène were all back on the ground, the Eiffel Tower rising up before them.

It took a minute for Alya’s tongue to work. “Okay, the fuck was that?”

“I dunno, dude, but whatever it was, it was awesome. Ooh, maybe that’s what we should call it! ‘Awesome Turtle.’”

“That’s stupid.”

“No, it’s awesome. Look around! Those little guys fixed the whole city!”

He was right. Everything was back to the way it should be, except for the mob of cheering spectators behind the line of policemen. Even that obnoxious cop’s arm was healed; he was laughing and swinging it around like a madman.

“Okay, I suppose that is kinda awesome.”

“I knew you’d come around.”

He held out his palm. Alya smiled, and high-fived him.

“Nice job,” they chorused.

“I-I’m sorry, Mylène, I, uh, I… never wanted to hurt you…”

Alya’s necklace beeped, but she ignored it, turning to Ivan and Mylène. Mylène was adjusting her bandana awkwardly, making general ‘uh’ and ‘um’s, and Ivan was trying to make himself look smaller. As one would imagine, he wasn’t having much success.

Alya was about to say something, but Jade beat her to the punch, reaching down and picking up the previously-akumatized piece of paper that was conveniently lying on the ground between all of them. 

He uncrumpled it and offered it to Mylène. “Did you ever read the lyrics to Ivan’s song?”

Mylène shook her head shyly and took the paper. Her eyes moved down the page, and her face quickly flushed. “Oh, Ivan!” She gave him a hug. “This is so sweet! It’s a shame you can’t hear them when you scream—er, when you sing…”

Jade smiled as the two of them continued to talk. “They make a cute couple.”

Alya sent her eyes Jade’s way. “Speaking of cute couples…” Alya clicked her tongue twice and slid a tiny bit closer. 

Jade sighed dramatically and took a step away, but smirked despite himself. “Are you always gonna be like this?” 

Alya winked. 

A beep rang out, and Jade looked down to his bracelet. “Welp, time to split. See ya ‘round, Volps.” 

Alya watched with a smile as Jade hopped on his shield and rocketed into the distance. 

“Yeah… See ya.”

* * *

Alya breathed in the cool Autumn air as she walked to her second day of school. With Hawk Moth thwarted and Paris restored, the city and its residents had fallen back into routine as if nothing happened. In fact, if you didn’t bother with news outlets, you’d be hard pressed to find any sign whatsoever of the magical mishaps of the previous day.

Alya was decidedly okay with this. Sure, she loved the spotlight, but she was pleasantly surprised that normalcy had returned so quickly; supervillains weren’t exactly everyday occurrences. She’d been prepared for a mass panic.

“Alya!” Marinette was waving her over from the school steps. 

Alya smiled and rushed over to meet her. “Hey, girl! Ready for a thrilling day of public education?”

Marinette giggled. “As long as we don’t have to fight another supervillain, I think we’ll manage.”

Alya’s eyes sparkled a tad. “Wasn’t that awesome!”

“Awesome? It was scary! I almost died!”

Alya waved a hand at her. “Oh, pshh. Volpina saved you, didn’t she?”

“It was still scary.”

“Well, I had fun.” Alya paused, then placed a hand on Marinette’s shoulder. “Hey, if you don’t want to get involved, you don’t have to. I won’t blame you for not following me into a warzone.”

“I think you might have a point there.” Marinette smirked. “But, who knows, maybe I’ll tag along occasionally. It’s certainly thrilling.”

Alya considered trying to convince her not to come at all, but decided she’d cross that bridge when she came to it.

They entered the classroom, and Marinette began to make her way towards their bench. Alya, however, grabbed her arm, stopping her and motioning with her head towards the bench Chloé and Sabrina had claimed the first day. Marinette took on a devilish grin, and the two of them sat down, exchanging a fist bump and smug looks. Now, it was only a matter of time.

They didn’t have to wait long. Not a minute later, Chloé strutted in, Sabrina trailing along behind her with all their bags. Chloé took one look at Alya and Marinette before frowning and crossing her arms.

“Uh, you’re in the wrong seat. Go on, get lost!”

Alya leaned forward, all smiles, and rested her chin on her hands. “Or else what? You’ll take them by force?”

In front of her, Nino twitched, and slowly lowered his headphones. Alya didn’t notice, though; she was too focused on Chloé, who was scoffing and rolling her eyes.

“Honestly,” she lamented with enough drama to outclass Broadway. “Do you even know who I _am_?”

Alya’s pleasant facade dropped like a rock. “Yeah, you’re a stuck up bitch, and guess what, Chloé, I’m not gonna put up with your shit, and neither is anyone else in here. So”—Alya pointed to the empty desk—“Go on. _Get lost."_

Chloé’s face screwed up in a way that reminded Alya of Lovecraftian aberrations. She opened her mouth to retort, but anything she might have said was drowned out by the uproar Alya’s speech had sparked in the class.

“Woohoo, go new girl!” cheered the pink-haired girl from across the room, managing to be heard over the various shouts of the other students.

If Alya had to give Chloé anything (as much as it pained her to do so), it was that she knew when she’d lost. She settled for a scathing glare and an aggressive middle finger before grabbing Sabrina and tugging her over to the empty seat. With one last sneer at Alya, she turned around, crossing her arms and trying to look dignified.

Alya smirked as Marinette started quietly gushing about her performance. Maybe this year wouldn’t be so bad after all.

* * *

“So you’re saying you _chose_ to come to school? Instead of staying home all day?”

Nino and Adrien were packing their things away as the echoes of the lunch bell faded away.

“Well, yeah,” Adrien mumbled, looking shyly away. Nino frowned. This kid seriously needed to loosen up. Good thing Nino was the loosest of the loose. Monsieur Model had chosen a good tutor in the ways of the teenager.

“Seriously, man, I’d would actually, literally kill someone to never have to go to school.”

Adrien stared at him in shock. “You’d kill someone to get out of school?”

“Dude, it was a joke. I just meant, like, I don’t get why you’d wanna go to school so much you’d defy your dad and stuff.” 

“Oh.” Adrien took a few seconds to collect himself. “I, uh, still had to go to school, Nino. It’s just instead of classrooms and friends and teachers I had a big empty house and my father’s assistant to teach me.”

Nino raised an eyebrow. “His assistant?”

Adrien’s face grew hard. “Slash glorified babysitter.” He sighed. “Why parent when you can pay someone else to do it for you?”

Nino pursed his lips. Suddenly, his home life wasn’t seeming too awful.

Behind them, Marinette said her goodbyes to Alya and made her way out of the room. When she passed by their bench, Adrien accidentally met her eyes, and Nino could feel the tension; it ended quickly, though, as Marinette turned her nose up and away with a small ‘Hmph!’ noise. 

Adrien deflated.

“C’mon, dude,” Nino said. “You said you wanted to make some more friends, right? You should try making up with Marinette; she’s actually super nice. She just thinks you’re like Chloé.”

Adrien gave him a half hopeful, half existentially resigned look. “And how am I supposed to convince her I’m not?”

Nino shrugged. “I dunno, man, you’re a nice guy. Just be your nice self.”

Adrien hummed and looked around, his gaze landing on the window, which was currently under siege from raindrops. Adrien’s eyes lit up, and he pounded his fist into his palm. “I’ve got it!”

“Yeah?”

“I’ll give her my umbrella! You know, because it’s raining. That’s, like, super friendly, right?”

“Yeah, um, that might come across as a bit more than friendly.”

Nino heard the faint whistling sound his insinuation made as it whizzed right over Adrien’s head. “You mean, like, _best_ friends? Even better!”

“Bro, that’s—”

“Sorry, Nino, I gotta catch her before she leaves!” Adrien shoved his bag onto his shoulder and ran out the door with a final shout of “See you tomorrow!”

Nino beat his head against the desk.

“I guess nine years of homeschooling makes you a bit oblivious to social cues, huh?”

Nino jumped and swiveled around. The only other person in the room was Marinette’s new friend, Alya. She sat on her desk, feet dangling over the edge just behind Nino, and was shaking her head softly after Adrien.

“Alya, right?” he ventured.

“Bingo.”

“I’m Nino. Man, that smackdown you gave Chloé back there? That was sick. I want to personally thank you for saying what we were all thinking.”

“Well, someone had to do it,” Alya said, but Nino could tell she ate up the praise. “Hopefully after that and getting chucked off the Eiffel Tower, she’ll be less haughty.”

Nino laughed. “You will soon find out, young grasshopper, that there is literally zero hope for Chloé.”

Alya raised an eyebrow. “That bad, huh?”

“You’ve no idea. She’s been like this as long as anyone can remember, and lots of us have been in her grade since Kindergarten—poor Marinette’s been in her class nearly every year. We’ve tried everything, and nothing works.” Nino chuckled. “Heh, Kim even stuck her in a locker for four hours, and all that got was him suspended.”

Alya hummed. “That one might be worth another shot.”

Nino laughed. “We should look into it.” With a grunt, he shouldered his bag.

“Catch you later,” Alya said, flashing finger guns.

Nino returned them with a smirk. “Catch you later.”

As Nino walked through the now-deserted halls of the school, Wayzz peeked out from under his hat.

“Was that an example of the ‘more than friendly’ gestures you were discussing with your friend Adrien earlier?” the kwami asked.

Nino laughed. “No. Well…” he stole a glance over his shoulder, just in time to see Alya laugh at something on her phone as she sauntered her way out of the classroom. “Hey, anything could happen, right?”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Next time on Miraculous, in _Stormy Weather:_
> 
> "Nino proceeded to stand there awkwardly."
> 
> Don't miss it!


	3. Stormy Weather

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which Aurore feels a bit under the weather.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okay, so, I pushed it to the deadline, but I did get the update out within the schedule I set! I think one update a month is the quickest realistic update schedule, so I guess that's Official now.
> 
> And thanks to everyone who kudoed or commented for your support! I'm sure you know how much it means to an author.
> 
> Enjoy!

Nino had always been an avid watcher of television, so it was rather surreal for him to walk through the local TV studio and see all the cameras and people that went into the production. It was the most hectic place he’d ever seen—he had to duck between producers, weave past reporters, and edge around cameramen as he maneuvered through the halls, eventually arriving at a set of red double doors. He pushed one open and stuck his head inside.

The room was large, with lights and microphones and video cameras, and a lot of people, all of whom stopped dead still to look at Nino as soon as he entered the room. 

“Uhhh…” Nino briefly considered fleeing. “I’m looking for Alec Cataldi?”

A tall, bald, dark-skinned man pushed his way through the crowd, and all the others went back to whatever it was they were doing. Alec—or, well, Nino guessed it was Alec, he supposed he didn’t really know for sure—flashed him a Hollywood-level smile, the elaborate studio lighting making his teeth positively glow.

“Hey, kid! What can I do for ya?”

“I, uh, heard about The Challenge, right? So I was like, hey, maybe I should participate, and the guys at the front desk told me to find you.”

Alec’s grin stretched wider. “Super! What’s your talent?”

“I DJ,” Nino said, gesturing at his headphones.

“Awesome! Got a sample I can hear?”

“Uh, sure, dude.” Nino fumbled with his phone for a bit. When he’d successfully wriggled it out of his pocket and pulled up one of his recent tracks, he handed both it and his headphones to Alec. He took them, still smiling, and, still smiling, pressed play. Nino proceeded to stand there awkwardly as Alec listened. Still smiling, of course. Nino was seriously wondering if he ever stopped smiling. Was he physically capable of anything else? Did it come from being a television host? Nino would never know.

By Nino’s watch, a full minute had passed since Alec had hit the play button. He still had yet to utter a single word. Nino was quickly growing concerned; Alec was smiling, obviously, but, just as obviously, that meant literally nothing. He may as well have had a completely flat look on his face. (Maybe that was why he never stopped smiling, because it was his resting expression. Maybe he’d done it so much as a host it’d gotten stuck that way. Or maybe he was just strange.) 

Just as the thought of leaving and forgetting about the whole thing crossed Nino’s mind, Alec removed the headphones and handed them back to Nino. 

“Yes!” Alec pumped his fist enthusiastically. “This is exactly what we’re looking for!” 

Wait, what? “It’s really that good?” 

Alec laughed. “Well, not really, compared to professional stuff. But it isn’t awful, and that’s perfect for The Challenge! We couldn’t take you if you were too good, it would spoil the tension!” 

“I, uh, thanks?” 

“No prob, kid. Now just fill out this form, and have your parents fill out this one.” 

He handed over two documents. Nino recoiled. “Uh, my parents aren’t with me; when do you need this form?” 

“Tonight! If you can’t make that deadline, you’re cut!” Alec said enthusiastically, his blinding grin staring Nino down like a shotgun.

“Alec!” shouted a voice from deeper inside the studio. “You’re on for the weather girl contest!”

“You can hand it in to the front desk, they’ll know what to do. See you later! Well, if you don’t miss the deadline, that is!”

Alec gave a quick chortle before disappearing into the hurried crowd of pre-broadcast activity. Nino stared after him for a few seconds, then stared at the forms for a few seconds. He sighed, turned into the hallway, and slumped against the floor.

“Man, I should’ve known there’d be a parental signature thing. This sucks.”

“I’m sure they’ll sign it if you explain how much it means to you,” Wayzz said, his voice muffled from under Nino’s cap.

“Trust me, it’s not gonna be that easy.”

“I’m sure you’ll think of something. I have faith in you, young master.”

Nino didn’t even bother to corrected him on ‘master’. He just looked at the contract again, sighed, and let his head fall against the wall behind him.

* * *

Alya could feel her elbows sliding out from under her. She was losing her strength—but she didn’t care. It was the first week of school, she shouldn’t have homework yet! This was preposterous! Eyes staring blankly at the dust on her glasses, her arms finally collapsed, and she plummeted face-first onto her history textbook. It wasn’t very comfortable, to be honest, but she wasn’t particularly picky at the moment. She couldn’t say how long she stayed like that, glasses pushed awkwardly against her temple, hair pressing into her cheek, nose squished against the pages in a mildly painful manner; it could have been seconds, minutes, hours… days… She let her eyes slide closed.

“I don’t understand your problem. It’s Mesopotamia! Their history is _comically_ simplistic! I bet you I could have this worksheet done in thirty seconds.”

Alya cracked open one eye and looked at Trixx. “I’ll be you can’t.”

Trixx turned up her nose. “I’d prove it to you, but it would be beneath me.”

“Please? This stuff is so damn boring.”

“Incorrect. It’s actually incredibly interesting. The Assyrians really knew how to party; ask any of the other kwamis, I’m sure they’d agree with me. Well, except for the lovesick cat and bug. They were too busy tricking the Egyptians into worshiping cats and beetles.”

“I don’t see how any of that makes my opinion incorrect.”

Trixx made a haughty “Pssh!” noise. “I don’t see how it _doesn’t._ You weren’t even there! You don’t have any idea how interesting it was. I, on the other hand, was there, and, judging by my impeccable standards of fun and enjoyment, you’re wrong.”

Before Alya could think of a response, her door burst open, and Trixx phased through her desk, out of sight. 

Alya twisted around in her chair and fixed her sisters with death glares. “Don’t you two know how to knock?”

Ella, true to form, ignored her completely. “Alya, Alya, you gotta vote for Mireille!”

Alya’s face crumpled with confusion. “Who?”

“She’s gonna be the next weathergirl on KIDZ+,” Etta explained softly. “Please?”

“Why do I care?”

“‘Cause if you don’t I’ll tell Mom you’re being a bad sister!” Ella threatened, grinning devilishly.

“But Mom’s at work,” Etta said, giving her twin a curious look.

Ella rolled her eyes. “I’ll call her, dummy.”

“This is coercion,” Alya protested.

“What’s that?” the twins asked in unison.

Alya rolled her eyes. “If I vote for your stupid competition, will you leave me alone?”

They nodded emphatically.

“Ugh, fine. It’s online, right?”

They nodded again.

Alya pulled out her phone and proceeded to tap at the blank screen aimlessly for about a minute. “There, it’s done. Now go.”

Ella and Etta exchanged a high five and ran out of Alya’s room, Ella shouting something about finding their mother’s secret chocolate stash. Alya closed the door after them (her father could deal with whatever they were up to) and, sullenly, began to read her history textbook.

Or, well, tried to. She was continually distracted by crunching sounds.

She turned a glare on Trixx, who was sitting in an empty trash can Alya had stolen from the guest room. (Trixx had protested, obviously, but Alya had said that if she wanted better accommodations, she should start paying rent. This had prompted the kwami to go on a near ten minute rant about how Alya didn’t properly appreciate her, which conveniently made her forget about her disdain for the trash can.) 

Trixx rolled her eyes and continued gorging herself on popcorn. “What?”

“Couldn't you eat a little more softly?”

“Popcorn and quiet simply don't go together, Alya. You know, you should be thankful I even allow you to be in the same room as me when I feast. In the olden days, I would charge people to feed me a single kernel. The lines spanned countless streets.”

Alya tapped her pencil impatiently as Trixx talked, eyes half-lidded. “You're lying. Again.”

“You can't prove that.”

“You can't prove your face.”

“Alya, Alya, _Alya._ That was a horrible comeback. Allow me to supply you a list of infinitely better comebacks that I devised on the spot: ‘Proof is relative.’ ‘Sometimes confidence is all the proof you need.’ ‘The proof is in the pudding; ergo, if one were to produce—”

Alya’s phone began to ring. It had never sounded so beautiful. “Quiet, Trixx, I gotta take this.”

“Oh really? Who is it?”

“Someone very important.” Alya answered the call. “Hello, it’s Alya. Who’s this?”

Trixx glowered. Alya turned her back to her.

_“Hey Alya, it's Marinette!”_

“Hey, girl! What’s up?”

_“So, I’m babysitting the daughter of a friend of my mom’s, and we about to go to the park, and I was wondering if you wanted to join me. For, uh, no particular reason.”_

Alya sucked in a breath. “Babysitting, huh?”

_“Yeah. I just, uh… couldn’t say no. If you don’t want to come I totally get it—kids aren’t exactly the best company. Gah! Manon, put that down!”_

A series of crashes reverberated through the phone, and Alya laughed. “Don’t sweat it, girl. I have to babysit my obnoxious little sisters all the time; I can handle _anything.”_ Another crash rang out. “You, uh, okay over there?”

_“Sort of? Don’t worry about it. Manon! Watch the—”_ Alya heard something shatter. _“—lamp,”_ Marinette finished defeatedly. 

“I’ll meet you at the park ASAP. Good luck.”

_“Thank you so much. You have no idea—Ah! No! Not the scissors! Sorry gotta go see you soon bye!”_

A click, and the line went dead. Alya rolled her eyes, grabbed a small purse from her closet, shoved Trixx into it, and ran out the door.

* * *

Nino bounced his phone from hand to hand. The contract for The Challenge lay beside him, hanging on the armrest of the chair he’d happened across. It was in a sort of lounge area of the TV studio, just outside the elevators. Seeing as how the station was currently broadcasting, Nino was the only one there.

No matter how he swung it, he couldn’t see how he could get a signature out of his parents. His Dad might say yes, but he would also tell his Mom, who would say no for sure. Even if he tricked them or forged their signature, they’d find out sooner or later, and his Mom would likely kill him. Maybe he could use Jade’s authority? No, Wayzz wouldn’t approve of that. Plus, it probably wouldn’t even work.

“Perhaps if you provide a convincing argument they will concede,” Wayzz suggested from beneath his hat. “After all, you must want this for a good reason, correct?”

“That’s a big ‘perhaps’, dude. But I guess it’s better than nothing.” He sighed and pocketed his phone. “I better talk to them in person. Unfortunately.”

Nino grabbed the contract and pushed onto his feet; but before he could move to the elevator, Aurore Beaurèal shoved past him, her parasol practically vibrating in her grip.

“Stupid Mireille!” she grumbled to herself as she passed him. “I tried so _hard_ for that contest! What did _she_ do to deserve it?!”

_Did she get into a fight with Mireille or something?_ Nino wondered. Even though they went to the same school, they were two grades ahead of him, so he didn’t really know them all too well. But even he knew they stuck together like glue—or, at least, they used to. If something had managed to get in between them, it must’ve been something big.

Then Nino caught sight of the poster advertising the weather girl competition on the wall. It showed the two girls—the “finalists,” as it branded them—and displayed the date and time of voting. 

_Yeah, that’ll do it,_ Nino thought.

“Oh, I do feel bad for that girl,” Wayzz said, peeking out into the now-empty lobby area. “It’s never easy to lose a contest of popularity like that.”

“I mean, I feel kinda bad for her too, but I don’t think it’s anything to get super angry ab—”

Nino stopped short. A familiar black butterfly was flapping its way through the open window and towards the elevator doors as fast as its wings could carry it.

Nino stared in shock for a good few seconds until Wayzz snapped him out of it. “Nino! Transform!”

“R-right! Transform me!”

Wayzz spiraled into the bracelet, and the familiar dark green light exploded into the room. As soon as Nino could see again, he grabbed his shield, opened it up, and launched it at the akuma.

The shell arced through the air, but just as it reached the elevator, the akuma slipped between the crack in the doors and disappeared. Nino’s shield slammed into the elevator like a sledge hammer, but all it did was leave a dent.

“Shit!” 

Cursing some more under his breath for good measure, he let his shield close back up, the white glow shrinking until it went out completely. He’d just have to head the akuma off before it could do any damage.

He jumped from the window and landed on his shield, wobbling just a bit before finding his balance. He skated around the edge of the studio until he arrived at the front doors, where a large crowd had assembled, chanting Mireille’s name, with balloons and shirts depicting her face.

Why did so many people care about some weather girl contest anyway? It wasn’t something Nino thought merited large crowds or merchandise, and _especially_ not an akuma.

Nino descended into the middle of the onlookers, in between the temporary metal fences that kept the pathway clear. Not soon after he landed, the crowd’s chanting was replaced by hurried whispering.

“You need to evacuate the area immediately. You’re not safe here,” Nino stated, addressing the crowd

In all honesty, Nino probably should’ve realized that wouldn’t have worked. The crowd exploded into protest.

“What about Mireille? I want to see her!”

“Not safe? What is that supposed to mean?!”

“You can’t tell us what to do!” yelled one particularly outspoken man. “What, do you think that just because you have superpowers you get to boss everyone around?!”

“Okay, okay! That’s enough!” Nino called, waving his hands in placating gestures. The crowd quieted down some; at least, enough for him to be heard. “Look, people, you can stay here if you want, but there’s gonna be an akuma here soon, so—”

“An akuma?” asked a woman. “What’s that?”

“Remember Stoneheart? He was an akuma.”

The crowd erupted again, this time in panic.

“What? There are _more_ monsters like that?”

“I thought you and the fox chick took care of ‘em!”

Nino sighed in defeat. At least some of them were actually taking his advice now, though, and running away.

Before the mass of people could quiet down again, the doors to the TV station blasted open and off their hinges, and an akumatized Aurore stepped out. She was… very purple. There was some blue in there too, but for the most part, _purple._ Even her (frankly atrociously styled) hair was half purple. Ivan may not have been the prettiest supervillain, but if Nino were perfectly honest, he had probably gotten the better deal.

“Watch out, Paris!” Aurore shouted, spreading her arms up and out for dramatic effect. “Stormy Weather’s the weather girl now, and I’ve got a _new forecast!”_

Wow. _Nothing_ Ivan had said as Stoneheart even came close to the cheesiness of that line, and Aurore had only been an akuma for, like, two minutes.

Nino, in an attempt to end the battle as quickly as possible, threw his shield at Stormy, but a sudden gust of wind propelled her upwards and out of the way. She cackled and aimed her umbrella at him, and a second gust of wind shot towards him. 

Nino raised his shield arm to protect himself, and then paled. _I really shouldn’t have thrown it._

The wind slammed into him, and he was catapulted into the distance. He stayed airborne for at least a minute before landing hard on some rooftop. 

Damn. Now he’d have to track her down.

Right after he found his shield.

And after everything stopped hurting.

* * *

By the time Alya reached the park, Marinette was already waiting for her (which made sense, considering she lived across the street). Alya spotted her leaning against a tree. She was staring at something, and didn’t seem to notice the naggings of the little girl next to her. Alya presumed she was the ‘Manon’ Marinette had mentioned over the phone.

“Yo, Marinette! Over here!” Alya called, but Marinette didn’t so much as twitch.

Alya frowned and called again, but Marinette still failed to hear her. Confused and slightly concerned, Alya approached—Manon noticed her and gave a small wave, which Alya returned, but Marinette remained oblivious. Something was definitely distracting her.

Alya tracked Marinette’s gaze to the fountain in the center of the park. She was about to ask Marinette why she was so enraptured with the fountain when she noticed that Adrien was leaning against it, posing for a photoshoot.

“Wait.” Something wasn’t right here. “Don’t you hate Adrien?”

Marinette snapped out of her trance, and her head whipped around so fast Alya swore she heard a crack. “What about Adrien? Oh! Alya! You’re here!”

“And have been for, like, five minutes, girl. Guess you were too busy drooling over model-boy to notice.”

“I was not _drooling,”_ Marinette insisted, blushing furiously.

“You were sooooo drooling,” Manon said with a giggle.

“I—s-shut up.”

Alya smirked and elbowed Marinette lightly in the ribs. “So, what changed? Last I remember, you were grouping him with Chloé.”

“Well, I guess, he just, after school that day, he, I don’t know, I saw a really nice part of his personality?”

“Aw, come on, girl! Gimme something better than that!”

Marinette sighed. “Fine. So, when I got outside, I noticed it was raining…”

* * *

_I reached my hand out into the downpour and felt the heavy droplets chill my palm. I sighed; there appeared to be no hope of avoiding the rain amidst my trek home._

_“…Hey.”_

_I turned my head and growled internally; it was that new friend of Chloé’s, Adrien Agreste. I ignored him._

_He opened his umbrella with a light pop. “I just wanted you to know that I was only trying to take the chewing gum off your seat. I swear.” His voice was slow and careful, like he was nervous. Nervous talking to_ me. _“I’ve… never been to school before. I've never had friends.” He swept a hand through his perfect, golden hair. “It's all sort of… new to me.”_

_He offered his umbrella to me—not reluctantly, not like he was trying too hard, not like he had some ulterior motive—no, he offered it out of a genuine desire to make up for something that wasn’t even his fault._

_I felt my heart jolt. I’d been wrong; Adrien was nothing like Chloé. He wasn’t mean, he wasn’t superficial, he wasn’t full of himself. He wanted to be treated like everyone else, not like a celebrity._

_Slowly, gingerly, I let my hand creep towards his. The handle of the umbrella passed from him to me, and our fingertips brushed against each other. Even though it was only for a moment, I felt sparks fly between our bodies, accented by the clap of thunder that resounded all around us._

_Truly, it was magical._

_Then the umbrella closed on my face, which was unbelievably embarrassing! But Adrien’s angelic laugh more than made up for it, and as I lifted the edge of the umbrella above my bangs, I found myself laughing alongside him._

_“See you tomorrow,” he breathed, each word like birdsong._

_I wanted to reply; wanted to tell him how I forgave him for the misunderstanding earlier, how I wished we could become friends, how I would see him tomorrow as well, and so, so much more—but my tongue was tied. Speech simply wouldn’t come. So I stood there, holding the umbrella with trembling fingers, until long after Adrien had gone._

_For the first time, I was truly in love._

* * *

“…and that’s pretty much what happened,” Marinette concluded.

“Wow,” Alya said. “Wow. You are _long_ gone.” 

“Hey! This is true love, Alya. We’re meant to be. I can _feel_ it.”

“Don’t worry, Mari, I believe you. And that’s why I’m totally going to be your wingwoman.”

Marinette brightened. “You will?”

“What are friends for?”

“Oh, thank you, Alya!” Marinette said, throwing a hug around her.

“No prob. Now, for starters, if you want him to notice you, you’re gonna have to do better than stare at him from halfway across the park.”

“Wait, you don’t mean—” Marinette paled. “You want us to get _closer?”_

Alya facepalmed as Marinette began panicking. This might prove more difficult than she’d thought.

“Look, Mari, if you want to date this kid, you’re gonna have to do a lot more than just be close to him.”

“I know, I know, I’m calm,” Marinette insisted, fanning herself with one hand. “C’mon, Manon, we’ve got a mission to complete.”

“You loooooove him!” Manon sing-songed, then broke into giggles.

Ignoring her, Alya led the three of them into the thick of the park, to a series of trees a dozen yards away from where Adrien’s shoot was taking place.

“Alright, just act natural,” Alya instructed.

“Right.” Marinette proceeded to walk in the most unnatural way Alya had ever seen someone walk.

That was also the moment Adrien decided to look their way, which made Alya curse rather profusely under her breath. Fortunately, he didn’t seem to notice how strange Marinette was acting, and waved at them.

Marinette smiled like an idiot and waved back. “Alya, did you see that? He waved at me!”

“Pretty unsurprising, considering you’re in the same class.”

Marinette kept staring and waving. Alya grabbed her wrist and gently lowered her arm.

“Marinette, Marinette!” The two girls looked down; Manon was tugging at Marinette’s shirt and pointing over at some guy giving out balloons. “I want a balloon with Mireille on it!”

Alya looked from Manon to Marinette to Adrien, and then back to Manon. It was time for eight years of dealing with her younger sisters to pay off.

“Hey, Manon, I can take you to the balloon stand. Marinette’s busy right now.”

Manon stamped her foot. “No! I wanna go with Marinette!”

Alya crouched down so she could look Manon in the eye. “I don’t tell many people this, but I have a secret. I’m actually a magical unicorn from the fantastical land of Respa, disguised as a totally _fabulous_ human girl, sent to this world to grant every child’s wish!” 

Manon laughed. “No you’re not! …Are you?”

Alya winked. “But I guess if you still want to go with Marinette—”

“No! I wanna go with the unicorn lady!” 

“Great! Now let’s get that balloon.” Alya picked up Manon and hoisted her onto her shoulders.

“Yay! And then I wanna go on the carousel!”

As Alya let Manon pull her away, she turned to Marinette, nodded to Adrien with her head, and mouthed ‘Good luck.’

* * *

Adrien was bored out of his mind, but he tried his best not to look it—that would only make the shoot last even longer. It was hot, though, and he always felt sleepy when it was hot, so that wasn't helping. And the photographer kept mentioning spaghetti, which was making him hungry.

He wished he could join Marinette and Alya, and just enjoy the day in the park. Hang out, talk, maybe get a smoothie—spend time with _friends._

Well, they’d just met, so he honestly didn't know them too well. But considering there were only two people his age he _actually_ knew, and one of them might not actually be a good choice for a friend, that hardly mattered to him. Plus, Marinette was super nice. He'd love to get to know her better. 

And Alya too, probably, he guessed. 

Adrien suddenly broke out into a yawn, right as the camera flashed. 

“Oh, no, no, no!” cried the photographer, waving his arms melodramatically about. “Ze boy has eaten too much spaghetti! We need more energy, more… _romance!”_

Adrien sighed. This guy was too darn perky.

“A girl!” the photographer exclaimed. “We need a girl! An extra!” 

Adrien watched as the photographer scanned the park, his eyes coming to a stop on… 

_Marinette?_

“You! I need you to pose with Monsieur Agreste!”

Adrien’s eyes widened, and his face reddened.

No! He was a professional. He could handle doing a photoshoot with someone he knew. Well, again, not that he really knew her, they’d only just met—but, darn it, it was Marinette, he had to act cool. He should feel inviting, approachable, yet also suave and charismatic. 

It shouldn’t be hard; that was practically his job description, after all. 

Adrien put on his best smile, prayed his face had returned to its usual coloration, and started brainstorming some puns.

* * *

Marinette felt lightheaded, dizzy; she was spinning.

_Photoshoot. Adrien. Extra. Me._

She swayed from side to side, her vocal chords grating together yet producing nothing. She began to tip over backwards.

Suddenly, with a flood of pure willpower, her leg shot out, catching her just before she would have hit the dirt. This was her chance to get closer to Adrien, dammit! She was not going to faint! Alya would _never_ let her live it down. Her muscles tensed, and she pulled herself back up into a standing position. Time to show her stuff!

“M-me?” she squeaked.

_No! That wasn’t cool at all!_

“Yes, you,” the strange photographer echoed. “Will you do it or not, girl?”

“I, uh, I…”

_Dammit, why is this so hard?_

From the fountain, Adrien smiled, and a piece of Marinette melted. “C’mon, I’m sure you’ll do great, Marinette!”

_Oh my GOD he thinks I’ll do great excuse me I need to go scream into a bag for three hours straight—_

“Yes!” Marinette shouted, a little too loudly to be appropriate. “Yes! Yes, I’ll do it!” She scurried over next to Adrien and poured all her efforts into not staring at him. “What do I doing here now? With you? Modeling?”

God, she hoped her blush didn’t ruin the shoot.

Adrien laughed. “Just act natural; well, maybe a bit more, uh…” he reddened and coughed into his hand. _“Intimate_ than usual. You know, for the, uh, effect.”

Marinette looked away. “R-right.”

Then the screams started, and everything fell apart. The photographer dropped his camera and swore aggressively in Italian, Adrien started and jumped to his feet, and Marinette herself nearly fell into the fountain. She looked towards the source of the commotion and saw a girl with an umbrella floating in the sky, cackling above the carousel, which she’d encased in a dome of ice.

“Oh no! Manon and Alya are in there!”

“Who is that?” Adrien muttered, staring in shock. “Did she get possessed the same way Ivan did?”

Marinette turned to address him, but she was barely seeing him. She _needed_ to make sure Alya and Manon were okay. “Hey, uh, I’ll catch up with you and we can finish this later, right?”

“Uh, maybe?” Adrien glanced at his photographer. “It’s worth a shot.”

“Great!”

Marinette dashed across the park, arriving panting at the carousel. Alya and Manon were both inside, just as she’d feared. Alya ran up to the ice as soon as she saw Marinette.

“Oh my god, Alya, are you two okay?”

“We’re fine,” Alya said, like it was no big deal.

“What’s going on? Is this like Stoneheart again? What happened?”

“Uhhhhh…” Alya looked like she was contemplating something. “Dunno. It’s, um—we didn’t really see what happened, the ice just kinda appeared.”

Marinette looked up at the purple flying girl. “She must have evil weather powers or something. She’s holding a parasol.”

“Right.” Alya’s eyes were constantly darting about, like she was monitoring the area. “You should probably head somewhere safe, I don’t think we’re in any immediate danger.”

“I can’t just leave you!”

“Marinette, there’s nothing you can do. I’m sure Jade Turtle will come by and rescue us soon, but there’s no sense in you just sticking around when it’s dangerous.”

Marinette sighed. Alya was probably right—the experience with Stoneheart was not one she wanted to repeat any time soon. Still, she didn’t want to feel like she was sitting around doing nothing.

“ _I_ may not be able to help you, but maybe I can find someone who _can!_ Like, the police, or the fire department!”

“Sounds good,” Alya said quickly. “Now go! The park is nearly empty, you’ll stand out!”

“Right! Stay safe!”

Marinette turned on her heel and ran.

* * *

Alya watched Marinette leave; the park was entirely empty now, except for them. Stormy Weather, apparently done terrorizing this specific part of Paris, had cleared out too, flying off down the road.

“Are we gonna die?” Manon asked.

“Jesus, Manon.” Alya shook her head. “No, we’ll be alright. Trust me, my unicorn senses are never wrong!”

Manon giggled.

“Now, I have a surprise for you,” Alya said, lowering to secret-sharing volumes. Manon’s eyes went wide with wonder. “You’re going to have to close your eyes for me to give it to you.”

Manon pouted. “Aww, do I have to?”

Alya nodded. “Otherwise the surprise won’t work. You want to see the surprise, don’t you?”

 

Manon shut her eyes.

Alya snuck around to the other side of the carousel. “Keep those eyes shut!” she called, before quietly whispering to Trixx to transform her. 

She’d have to be quick; Manon wouldn’t stay compliant for long. The orange transformation light spilled throughout their ice prison, and Alya raised her flute to her lips to call on the Song of the Mountain.

She hesitated, though. There was no way Manon wouldn’t peek if she heard music. God, children were frustrating sometimes. She lowered the flute and settled for punching the ice without her strength spell; hopefully the super strength the suit provided would still be enough.

It wasn’t. The ice cracked and fractured, but not all the way through. Alya bit down a swear as she detransformed, Trixx flitting back into her purse just as Manon rounded the center pillar.

“What was that? Was that the surprise?”

“I, uh, yes, that was the surprise.”

“Your surprises are boring,” Manon whined.

“Well, sorry I can’t—” she paused. Something was zooming towards them, fast. Something green. “Actually, Manon, that was only the first part of the surprise. The second part’s coming right up.”

“Aw, do I have to close my eyes _again?_ They always itch when I do that!”

A loud shattering sound drowned out anything else Manon had to say as the green turtle shell collided with the ice, right where Alya had cracked it. The dome shattered, and Alya had to cover her head as the pieces rained down on her.

Manon squealed with delight as Jade Turtle touched down in front of them. His shield circled back to his arm, where it stuck, and he subtly struck a pose with it before approaching them.

Alya couldn’t help but smile. Dork.

“Are you two alright?”

Manon nodded enthusiastically. Alya threw herself onto Jade even more enthusiastically.

“Oh, my hero!” she wailed. “You saved us! How can I _ever_ repay you?”

“I, uh, um…” Jade blushed under Alya’s hug, and he stumbled backwards. He held his arms out as if he was going to return the hug, but he never did, and they ended up awkwardly floating there. Alya smirked; he was even cuter when he was flustered.

At length, Jade took a step back and unwrapped Alya from around him, holding her by the shoulders an arm’s distance away.

He cleared his throat. “I’m, er, happy to help, madame. If you’ll excuse me, though, I’ve got an akuma to catch, so… make sure you stay inside.”

He gave one last uncomfortable smile before hopping on his shield and speeding off. 

“Ooh, you _liiiike_ him!” Manon teased.

Alya blushed. “Right. You.” She looked around. “C’mon, we’ve got to get you somewhere safe.”

Alya ended up taking her to Marinette’s house. Her parents were more than understanding of the situation and happily took Manon, even insisting that Alya stay there with them until Volpina and Jade Turtle took care of things. Alya thanked them for their kindness but managed to get away with the excuse that her parents were expecting her to return home. Sabine had offered to call them, but by then Alya was already halfway out the door, so she pretended not to hear her.

Apparently, being frustratingly nice was a genetic thing.

After escaping the Dupain-Cheng’s, Alya called Marinette to update her on the situation, and then jumped into an alleyway to transform.

* * *

Nino raised his shield against yet another gust of wind, and its accompanying flurry of cars, and swore. He was making approximately zero progress in this fight—if he threw his shield, he’d get blown away, and since he couldn’t fly and block at the same time, he had no way of closing the distance. 

Why was Volpina taking so long?

Nino yelped as lightning exploded at his feet, leaving a scorch mark on the asphalt. He looked up at Stormy Weather, who scowled. 

“Next time, I won’t miss!” 

Her umbrella glowed with electricity, and Nino wasted no time jumping onto his shield. He zoomed towards the closest side street, hoping to cut off Stormy’s line of sight; as she fired, he twisted sideways, bringing his shield up between him and Stormy. The lightning bolt discharged against the bottom of his shield just as he swerved around the corner.

Ha! He _could_ fly and block at the same time!

Nino wound his way through the streets until there was no way Stormy Weather knew where he was, and then raised himself up until he was peeking over the edge of a building. He could see Stormy Weather; she was only about a block away from where he’d left her. She was scanning the area, no doubt searching for him. 

Just as Stormy turned her eyes to where he was hiding, he sent his shield flying at her. Caught off guard, she panicked, throwing her hands up to shield her face. Nino’s shield proceeded to slam into her stomach, sending her crashing into a storefront. The shield swung back onto Nino’s arm, and he pumped his fist in the air.

“Woo! How’s _justice_ feel, Hawk Moth?”

Then the storefront exploded.

Stormy Weather flew from the building, a great whirlwind roaring around her, sofas and armchairs and other home furnishings spinning around in the cyclone. As she entered the open air of the street, the tornado grew, and before Nino knew it, a lamp flew past his face, missing him by inches. He brought up his shield as soon as his brain caught up with the situation, just in time to bat off a rogue coffee table. An arm chair came next, straight for his head; he managed to block that, too, but it left his lower body open, and a mattress that had escaped its bedframe knocked him off his feet and sent him spinning. Something else—he wasn’t entirely sure what, only that it was an offensive shade of purple and hurt a lot—slammed into his back, and for the second time that day he found himself soaring uncontrollably across Paris.

This time, though, he slammed into something before he hit the ground, taking it with him into the cold concrete of a sidewalk. He landed on top of the something, and when his vision returned to him, he realized it was a very orange something.

“Well this is comfortable,” the very orange something said. A girl.

He pushed himself up by his hands. Oh, it was Volpina.

Oh, shit, he was straddling Volpina.

She winked. _“Very_ comfortable.”

He quickly jumped off of her. “Er, sorry about that.”

“Oh, I don’t mind,” she said, and then, without giving him time to process, “Tough akuma?”

“Well”—he used his shield to knock away a desk that had followed him across Paris, a remnant of Stormy Weather’s winds—“I’m thinking we’re not really supposed to fight these things solo.”

“Are you saying we need to spend more time together? Because that’s what it sounds like to me.”

“Focus, Volps. We’ll need a plan to take down Stormy Weather.”

Volpina rose up into the air, above the rooftops. “We’ll need to find her first,” she called down. “I don’t see her anywhere.”

Nino’s brow furrowed. “Really? I thought she’d be looking for us. You know, for the miraculouses and everything.”

“It’s just miraculous,” Volpina corrected. “It’s its own plural.”

Nino frowned. “My kwami always says ‘miraculouses,’ though.”

“You sure? Because Trixx always says—”

She was cut off by an electronic billboard beside them, which buzzed to life. It displayed a picture of Stormy Weather in front of a weather forecast screen.

“Hello Paris! I’m your new weather girl, Stormy Weather, here to bring you a forecast! And, oh, what’s this? It looks like mother nature’s had a change of plans! We’re skipping autumn this year and going straight to _winter!”_ She used her umbrella to cover the studio with ice and then broke into a villainous cackle.

“You know, as far as evil plans go, that’s not the most intimidating,” Volpina commented.

Nino was tempted to agree with her. He didn’t particularly like fall anyway. “At least we know where she is now.”

“Race ya!”

Volpina shot off towards the KIDZ+ building, and Nino surfed after her, praying that she was actually taking this seriously.

* * *

As it happened, Alya’s flight was significantly slower than Jade’s shield at top speed, and she lost their race by a good bit. But seeing as that he was the only one who’d been inside the TV studio before, it was probably for the best. Presently, he was wrenching open a window about halfway up the complex as she floated next to him, spinning in lazy circles.

“Sooo… any idea where the akuma’s hidden?” she asked.

Jade busted the window’s latch, and it slid upwards with a _thunk._ “I’m, like, ninety percent sure it’s in her umbrella. The victim was a candidate for a weather girl contest—she was carrying one with her.”

Jade slipped through the window. His shield lingered behind for a second, then zipped in after him. Alya flew through next, and the two of them started down the hallway.

“I heard about that contest,” Alya said. “My sisters wanted me to vote in it.”

Jade frowned, taking a moment to think before responding. “I don’t think we’re supposed to discuss our personal lives. Secret identities, right?”

“Oh, come on, you’re not going to figure out who I am because you know I have younger sisters.” And even if he did, Alya wasn’t sure it’d be such a bad thing. They were partners, right?

“I just…” Jade sighed. “We’re just starting out. I think we should stick to the rules, at least for now. We already screwed up once, remember?”

Alya frowned, but kept her opinions to herself.

“Alright, I think this is the place,” Jade said, and they stopped.

They were standing in front of a set of red double doors, with TV screens on either side. The screens displayed Stormy’s broadcast, where she was still laughing maniacally. Alya idly wondered if she even bothered to breathe.

Jade turned to her. “You ready?”

A rack of magazines caught Alya’s eye—specifically, the _Teen Fashion Monthly_ one with Adrien Agreste on the cover. _Marinette would probably like that._ She picked it up and flipped to Adrien’s spread.

“Volpina.”

“Yeah, yeah, just a second.” Ooh, there was an exclusive interview with him! But Jade was looking less impressed by the second, so she put it back and smiled charmingly at him. “Right, let’s go.”

Jade shook his head. “Just be ready for a fight.”

Together, they burst through the doors and into the studio. Stormy Weather was glaringly absent.

“It’s a recording!” Jade exclaimed.

Lightning flashed from behind them, and a rack of lights dropped down on them from the ceiling. They leapt out of the way even as the studio plummeted into blackness.

“Ha, you fools!” gloated Stormy Weather from somewhere above them. “You’ve fallen right into my trap!”

“She won’t be able to see either, though, right?” Alya whispered.

Wind roared through the room and swept up the superheroes, shards of ice and various pieces of sound equipment battering against their suits.

“Yeah, but she doesn’t need to aim!” Jade shouted, straining to be heard over the wind.

Suddenly, the room exploded in blue-white light and a bolt of lightning shot towards Alya. She managed to grab a large camera and chuck it in front of her, and the lightning struck it instead. Seizing the brief flash of light, Jade threw his shield out, but the illumination from the lightning didn’t last long enough for him to aim it properly, and it returned to his arm unsuccessful. 

“There’s no way we can win like this! We need to find some way to get light in here!” Alya called.

“Perfect! I’ll just use my ‘repair broken light fixtures’ superpower and we’ll be done!” Jade shouted.

Superpowers… superpowers! “That’s it!”

“No!” Jade raved. “That’s not it! That was sarcasm!”

Alya positioned her flute as best she could in the middle of the miniature twister. “Fox’s Cunning!”

The effect was immediate. An orb of light appeared at the end of her flute, glowing so brightly that it illuminated the entire room. 

“Um. Nevermind,” said Jade Turtle. “Does that even count as an illusion?”

Alya weaved in between icicles and microphones as she flew her way out of the tornado and towards Stormy Weather. “I mean, it’s only affecting our perception of the room. It’s still technically pitch black. Song of the Mountain!”

Magical strength filled Alya as she swung at the Akuma, who squeaked and just barely ducked underneath the flute. Alya landed against the studio wall and clung onto a beam the protruded outwards a few centimeters. 

“We’re not finished yet!” sneered Stormy Weather. 

She flew out of the studio on a gust of icy wind, which idled at the doors and froze into a wall of ice. Alya launched off the wall after her, shattering the ice with a kick. Then she felt a hand latch onto her wrist, and before she knew what was happening, Jade pulled her onto his shield-board and they were hot on Stormy Weather’s tail.

Stormy burst into a stairwell and flew straight up; Jade, much to Alya’s delight, followed her lead. His shield snapped ninety degrees into a straight climb, Jade clinging onto the top edge with one hand and carrying Alya with the other. Alya, for her part, was laughing and whooping. None of her family liked roller coasters, so she’d never been on any before, but she imagined they had nothing on this. I mean, sure, she could fly and stuff, but Jade could _fly._

Their direction changed once more (and just as drastically) before they came to a harsh stop. Both of them were flung forward, landing face-down next to each other on the roof of the building.

“AHAHAHAHA!”

Alya looked up. Stormy Weather was floating high above the roof, next to a few billboards that faced away from them. Her umbrella was pointed up to the sky like a reverse lightning rod, and a swirling mass of dark clouds rolled over them. 

“This just in,” she crowed, “there’s going to be a freak hail storm hitting the area, like, _right now!”_

Alya leapt back to her feet, pulling Jade up with her. He got the message and lifted his shield above his head just as the clouds opened up, enlarging it to cover the both of them. Hailstones the size of baseballs began to pour down on them, battering the shield with an endless series of loud thunks.

“You, uh, might not want to step outside right now,” Jade advised.

“Wasn’t planning to, thanks.” 

Her necklace beeped and one of its sections lost its coloration. Four minutes to solve this. Well, first things first, they needed to deal with the hail.

“Jade—woah!” She grabbed him and bounced backwards just as a bolt of electricity struck the ground they’d been standing on. “Jade, use your shield!”

“I _AM!”_ he shouted as a ripped-off ventilation duct slammed against his shield. 

Alya rolled her eyes. “No, the other shield! Block the storm!”

Jade blushed. “Right. Sorry. Shell!”

His shield pulsed, and the familiar green hexagon-patterned barrier appeared around the top of the building, encasing them in a small dome. The hail continued to rain down, but rolled down the sides of the Shell and fell to the streets below. Alya hoped it didn’t hit anybody.

Snarling like it was going out of style, Stormy pointed her umbrella at them, and a gust of wind shot forth.

“Song of the River!”

Jade let out a grunt as the wall of air slammed into him, and he was blown back; fortunately, the Shell did an excellent job of catching him. And Alya…

Alya ran. Her superspeed turned the hurricane-level winds into more of a heavy breeze, and after a few seconds of fighting the gust she was on the other side of the roof, under Stormy Weather. Her parasol crackled and lightning cut towards Alya, but she dodged, and it struck the bottom of one of the billboards instead. The supports creaked and groaned but weren’t sturdy enough, and the massive slab of metal fell onto Stormy Weather. She brought up her umbrella and blasted a hole into the billboard with another bolt of thunder. She managed to slip through the hole unharmed, but was met face to face with Jade as soon as she emerged. He slammed the front of his shield into her face and kicked at her umbrella—it spiraled downwards, and Alya dashed across the roof to catch it. She snapped the neck against the corner of an AC unit, and the akuma fluttered out. 

A moment later, Jade released a purified butterfly from his shield. 

“Awesome turtle!” he shouted, pumping his shield into the air. As if to answer his call, the flurry of tiny turtles erupted from the white glow, and went about their task of repairing Paris.

“I still can’t get over how fucking weird those turtles are.”

“Don’t diss the turtles, Volps. The turtles are where it's at.”

Alya slid the tiniest bit closer. “Oh, I’ll have you know that I love turtles.”

Jade turned away and coughed. Alya’s miraculous beeped again. 

“Would you look at that,” he said quickly. “Looks like you only have three minutes left.”

“You can get a _lot done_ in three minutes,” Alya said. 

Then she winked. The winking, she’d decided, was probably her favorite part of being a superhero.

Jade tried his best to look disapproving, but Alya caught the smile trying to force its way up to his mouth. “Well, I won’t keep you from your productivity, then.” 

His bracelet beeped, and they both instinctively looked toward it. “See?” he continued.

“Alright, alright.” Alya backed up to the edge of the roof, blew him a kiss, and fell backwards off the building.

She quickly played the song for flight, ignoring a comment about being horribly overdramatic that Jade had shouted after her. She’d just one thing left to do before catching up with Marinette.

She curved around the building and entered through the front doors. The lobby was obviously deserted—akumas were still new and frightening, so even the reporters were keeping their distance.

Wusses. If Alya hadn’t been chosen, you’d better _believe_ she’d be there at the scene, phone in hand and recording. She had been chosen, though, which was probably for the best, because she suspected that having an aspiring reporter constantly interfere with akuma attacks could become a bit annoying. 

It didn’t take her long to find what she was looking for. Beside a few armchairs in the lobby stood a magazine rack, just like the one she’d encountered before their confrontation with Stormy Weather. Smiling to herself, she located Adrien’s smiling face and grabbed the magazine. That interview would definitely be worth reading.

Ooh, she bet she could really screw with Marinette.

Not that she would do that, of course.

Ah, who was she kidding? Grinning evilly, she flew back to the park.

* * *

 

It was five minutes after they’d defeated Stormy Weather by the time Nino reached his house. He entered it like he was treading around a pile of broken glass. He clutched the parental consent form for The Challenge in his hand, oscillating between clenching his fist and cursing himself for crumpling the paper.

As he closed the door behind him, he heard the faint rustle of newspaper from the living room. perked up. He perked up. That must mean—

Yes! His father was home! He must’ve gotten off work early for once. This actually gave him something of a chance. Nino approached, greeted his father, and explained the situation.

Adam folded closed his newspaper, pushed up his reading glasses, and eyed the document in Nino’s hands. “A gameshow? That’s exciting. I suppose you haven’t talked to your mother about this yet?”

_Shit._ “Uh, well…” Nino adjusted his hat.

His father smiled softly. “I can’t blame you, but you know she’s going to find out sooner or later. And if I know anything about your mother, it’ll be less painful if it’s sooner.”

Nino sighed. He was right; if his mom found out he’d gone and signed up for a TV show behind her back, she’d explode.

Adam must have read the look on his face, for he called Jasmin, Nino’s mother, into the room. She took the proposal with all the grace of hurricane.

“You want me to let you do _WHAT?!”_

_Hoo boy, here we go._ “Mom, this is a really good chance to get my music some exposure! I can’t pass it up!”

“Yes, Nino, you _can,”_ she snapped, pointing the spatula she was holding at him threateningly. “All this is gonna do is bite into your schooltime! Your grades are bad enough as is.”

“Surely he can balance his schoolwork and his extracurriculars?”

Jasmin turned to her husband with a huff. “No, Adam, he _can’t._ We _know_ that.” She turned back to Nino. “Look, Nino, I’m happy you’re passionate about this hobby of yours, really. But you take it more seriously than your education! You’re not going to be able to live off this, not like you would be able to with a real—or, a more traditional job. I’m sorry, but your education _has_ to come first.”

“Come on, Mom, it’s not like my grades are gonna improve just because I don’t do this! Isn’t it better for me to focus on what I love instead of just failing more at school and feeling like sh—like crap?” Jasmin opened her mouth to say something, and even got the first half of a syllable out, but Nino rolled her over. “At least I’m actually halfway decent with music; I could accomplish something here!”

“You could accomplish something in school, too, if you just tried!” Jasmin cut in. Her face was beginning to take on a dangerous red coloration, and her earrings were jingling all over the place, but Nino wasn’t about to back down. He was gonna get that damn formed signed one way or another; his mother could stick it.

“My schoolwork isn't going anywhere no matter how much you want it to, Mom, so you may as well stop trying. Are you gonna sign or not?”

“Not with that kind of mouth on you, young man. You—Adam! What are you doing?!”

Nino watched excitedly as his father casually uncapped a pen, leaned forward over the coffee table, and signed the form.

_“Adam!”_ Jasmin hissed, again, quieter this time, but much, much more venomous. 

“Have fun, Nino. And you better win!”

“R-right. I’ll try. Thanks, bye!” 

Nino’d gotten what he’d came for, and now it was time to run. He swept the signed document up off the table and sprinted back out the door, trying not to think about the argument that would soon be boiling behind him.

Once they were in the clear, Wayzz pushed Nino’s hat up ever so slightly, his cartoonish eyes peering down from under it. “That went well.” Nino made a face. “…Right?”

Nino kicked a pebble that was idling on the sidewalk. It bounced across the street and tumbled down a sewer grate. “About as well as it could’ve gone, little guy. I just hope I do well enough to make it worth it.”

“I am positive you shall excel, Nino,” Wayzz chirped, smiling broadly enough to make Nino even more uncomfortable.

“Glad someone is,” he mumbled.

Wayzz’s smile settled back down into a line. He stared a few seconds longer before letting Nino’s cap fall back down on top of him.

Nino started down the road, his sneakers making soft taps against the concrete.

* * *

 

Alya burst into the park, pulling Marinette after her by the wrist. She saw to her delight that Adrien and his photographer were just beginning to set up again. She dashed towards them, swung Marinette around to her front, and pushed her towards Adrien.

Marinette gave a short scream, stumbled, flailed, and managed to catch herself, finally turned to look at Adrien.

“Uhhhhhhh,” she said, like the well-spoken straight-A student she was.

“Oh, hi, Marinette,” Adrien greeted. “Ready for the shoot?”

Somehow, Marinette strung together a series of syllables that sounded vaguely like an affirmation, and the shoot began. Alya took a seat on a nearby bench to watch.

Twenty minutes later, it was over, and the photographer shooed Adrien and Marinette off so he could gather up his equipment. Marinette immediately tackled Alya into a hug.

“That was amazing! You’re the best friend ever!” she cried. “You’re, like, superfriend!” 

“…That’s one way of putting it, yeah. But I’m not done yet.” 

“Huh?” 

Alya extricated herself from Marinette’s hug and located Adrien, who was leaning against a tree with his phone. Alya once again took custody of Marinette’s wrist and dragged her over to the boy. 

“Yo, Adrien!” He looked up and stuffed his phone in his pocket. How polite. “We’re gonna get some smoothies. Wanna come with?”

Adrien’s eyes widened. “Wait, really?”

“Mmhmm! It was Mari’s idea.” 

Adrien looked at her, and she made a strangled screeching sound, then promptly cleared her throat. “Uh, yeah. It’s, well, umbrella payback? WAIT not payback that’s revenge, I, uh—” 

Adrien laughed nervously and scratched at the back of his neck. “Y-you don’t have to pay me back for the umbrella, Marinette. It was a gift! You know?”

“No, I can’t just take you— _IT,_ take _it_ —from _you_ —” 

Adrien waved his hands in front of him “No, no, really, it’s okay, don’t worry about it!” 

“But—” 

This was going nowhere fast. Alya elbowed Marinette in the ribs to shut her up. “Look, Agreste, you want smoothies or not?” 

“Adrien!” called a bespectacled woman from a limousine at the park entrance. “Time to go!” 

Adrien swore under his breath. “Sorry. I want to, really, but I—I gotta go.” He gave one last wave and a sad smile before walking away. 

Alya clicked her tongue. “Damn. Well, it was worth a shot.”

Marinette sighed.

“Aw, you’ll get another chance,” Alya said, putting a comforting hand on Marinette’s shoulder as they began their walk back to the Dupain-Chengs’. “Besides, you were in a shoot together. How many of his fangirls at school can say _that?”_

Marinette began smiling again. “Yeah, I suppose you're right. You’re really good at all this, Alya. I’m surprised you’re not dating someone already.”

“I’m…” Alya paused for a moment. “I’m working on it.”

Marinette raised an eyebrow, her smile turning devious. “Oh?”

“Mmhmm. And maybe, someday, I’ll even tell you about it.”

Marinette pouted.

In time, they arrived at Marinette’s house. “Thanks again, Alya. I have no idea what I would’ve done without you.”

“Probably something disastrous,” Alya teased, earning a stern look. “Hey, it’s not like I’m wrong. See you at school!” 

“See you!”

Alya turned and started walking off, but as soon as she heard Marinette open her door, she swiveled back around, tapping a finger against her chin. “Oh, I almost forgot tell you.”

Marinette paused halfway into her house. “Huh? Tell me what?”

“According to _Teen Fashion Monthly”_ —Alya held up the magazine she’d found back in the TV studio—“Adrien’s birthday is in…” She licked her thumb and started slowly leafing through the magazine for poorly disguised dramatic effect. “Six days.”

_“WHAT?!”_ Marinette screeched. “Oh my god I have so much to do! I—I—I NEED IDEAS!” she yelled, tumbling through her doorframe and into the bakery, the door thudding closed behind her. 

Alya cackled to herself the entire walk home.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Next time, on Miraculous:
> 
> "Girl, I love you, but you're awful at this."
> 
> Don't go anywhere!


	4. Photowrath

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which Adrien forgets to turn off flash.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The akuma idea for this chapter is inspired by the fic [Heroes of the day](http://archiveofourown.org/works/5047585/chapters/11606818) by Mirawohoo. It's cool! Check it out!

Adrien picked at his breakfast drearily. He looked out across the vast dining table and sighed; its size only seemed to emphasize its emptiness.

“Happy birthday, Adrien,” he muttered to himself.

The sharp clicks of high heels on marble announced Nathalie’s arrival. She approached Adrien and handed him a tablet.

“Your schedule, Adrien.”

“Thanks, Nathalie… My father didn’t happen to say anything about a party, did he?” 

He could always hope.

“He… doesn’t think it would be a good idea,” Nathalie explained.

Yeah, that sounded about right. At least Nathalie had the decency to look sympathetic.

“Of course,” Adrien mumbled.

“Happy birthday, Adrien,” Nathalie said, with a healthy dose of professional detachment, before she walked away.

“Happy birthday,” Adrien echoed to the empty room.

* * *

It was a beautiful day. The sun was shining, there was a light breeze, and, most importantly. the final bell of the school day had just rung. Nino, as per usual, was chilling with Adrien outside the school while they waited for Adrien’s limo to arrive. 

“Yo, dude, get this—those guys at The Challenge finally got back to me! I’m on!”

“That’s great, Nino,” Adrien said, smiling softly. 

“I know, I’m so pumped! I mean, filming doesn’t start for another month or so, but still!”

“Mmhmm,” Adrien said, staring off into space.

Nino frowned. Adrien was acting even more reserved than usual. “Hey, dude, you okay?”

“I’m—” He paused. “Yeah, I’m fine. It’s just my father.”

Nino gave a stark chuckle. “Parents, right? What did he do?”

“He won’t let me have a birthday party. I know, it’s a pretty stupid thing to get mad over, but—”

“Bro,” Nino said, looking at Adrien in shock. “Is today your birthday?”

“Yeah.”

“Dude! Why didn’t you tell me?!”

Adrien looked confused. “Because you didn’t ask?”

“Adrien, Adrien, Adrien,” Nino said, shaking his head. This poor, naive child. “You should’ve told me! I don’t have a gift for you, or, like, anything!”

“Nino, I’m rich. I don’t want you wasting your money buying me gifts.”

“It’s not about the money, Adrien, it’s about the bro contract.”

“Nino, I know you just make up these rules on the spot.”

“Clause twelve of the bro contract,” Nino proclaimed, ignoring Adrien’s rude and completely inaccurate comment. “‘Each bro must, on the birthday of a bro, provide said bro with a gift, further solidifying their pact of honor.’ So there.

“Also, just, as an aside, you totally deserve a party, and your dad’s committing a terrible crime denying you one.”

“He can be a bit… controlling, sometimes. A lot of the time. But he thinks he’s doing what’s best for me, so that’s… something?”

“God, sounds just like my mom. Always telling me what to do with my life. Oh, hey, what about _your_ mom? Is she more sensible than your dad?”

Adrien’s eyes darkened, he hunched forward, he stared at the ground. “She’s gone.”

Nino’s mouth fell open, and he couldn’t seem to close it. Probably because of the massive-ass foot he’d just shoved in it.

_Fuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuck me, man._

Suddenly, somebody yelped, and Marinette came tumbling in front of them holding some sort of package and being generally panicky. Adrien immediately froze. 

Nino sighed. It was going to be one of _those_ days, wasn’t it?

* * *

“You can do it, you can do it!” Alya chanted, for the fourteenth time. (Yes, she was counting.)

“I can do it, I can do it!” Marinette repeated.

Marinette stood up, peered over the wall they were hiding behind, squeaked, and popped back down. “I can’t do it, I can’t do it!”

Alya put her hands on her hips and shook her head. “Uh-uh, girl, you’ve been stalling all day! Now’s the time!” She put her hands on her friend’s back and shoved her out into the open.

“Alya waaiiiiii—er, uh, hah ha, hey, Adrien!”

Alya peeked over the edge of the wall to watch. Marinette was smiling far too widely for any sane human and hiding her gift behind her back, Adrien looked surprised and unprepared, and Nino looked more pained than Alya felt, which was saying a lot.

“Uh.” Adrien half-smiled, half-waved, and full-blushed. “Hey, Marinette.”

“Hey, Adrien!” she repeated.

Alya sighed.

“Er, hey, Marinette?” Adrien echoed.

Alya caught Nino’s eye; he gave her a hopeless, pleading look. 

_Do something,_ Alya mouthed.

_Why me?_ Nino mouthed back.

Alya winked. _Please?_

Nino stared at her for a moment longer—was he redder than usual?—before speaking up, interrupting Marinette’s third ‘hey Adrien.’

“What’s up, Mari?”

Marinette jumped, as if she had forgotten Nino had been standing there the whole time. Knowing her, she probably had. “Um—” Marinette whipped her present out from behind her back in one swift, robotic jerk of the arm. “I, er, wanted to gift you a make! I-I mean, gift you a give I made—wait, no, that’s—”

A loud, rich-sounding yawn cut Marinette off. Alya narrowed her eyes: _Chloé._

“Move, loser,” she spat. She roughly shoved Marinette to the side and wrapped herself around Adrien all in one smooth motion. “Happy birthday, Adrikins!”

“Marinette, are you okay?” Adrien wriggled out from Chloé’s grip and moved towards Marinette, but Chloé stepped back in between them and took Adrien by the shoulders.

“Oh, don’t worry about her, Adrien. Did you get the gift I sent you? It’s _very_ special this year.” She pulled him closer and kissed him on the cheek.

Suddenly, Adrien was bright red. He pushed Chloé off of him and stepped back, his eyes flicking to Marinette on the ground. He looked relieved that she wasn’t paying attention, and hastily wiped his cheek with the back of his hand. “Chloé, stop it!” 

“Oh, come on, Adrikins, I do that all the—”

Adrien gave Chloé a death stare. _“Stop. It.”_

He grabbed Nino’s arm and charged away from the scene. Chloé shot one last threatening look at Marinette and then stormed back into the school, where Sabrina was waiting with her bags. Marinette stayed there on the ground looking hopeless.

Alya walked over to her and crouched down. “Well… that happened. Girl, I love you, but you’re awful at this.”

“He hates me.”

“He does not hate you. You just had bad timing. And you couldn’t talk correctly.”

“He ended up running away angry!”

“Angry at Chloé! Stop blaming yourself, girl.”

“But I embarrassed myself!”

“Okay, well, I have to give you that one, but trust me, Mari. He does not hate you.”

“Ugh. Whatever. I need ice cream.”

Alya sighed and picked Marinette up. “You can have ice cream after you woman up and give Adrien his present.”

Marinette pouted.

* * *

Adrien had dragged Nino two blocks by the time he let go of his arm. Chloé’s kiss must’ve really set him off.

Adrien sighed, heavily. “Sorry.”

“It’s cool, dude, I understand.”

Just then, Adrien’s limo turned the corner and pulled up to the sidewalk. “Adrien?” asked the woman in the car. “What are you doing here?”

“I—don’t worry about it, Nathalie.” He turned back to Nino. “Gotta go.”

“Hey, uh, you know, if you really want that birthday party, you should fight for it, dude. Talk to your dad about it. Maybe he’ll reconsider!”

Adrien gave a strained smile. “I doubt it, but… maybe it’s worth a shot. See you later, Nino.”

Nino waved after the limo until it was out of sight, then dodged into an alleyway. Wayzz flitted out from under his hat and came to a stop in front of Nino’s face, an eyebrow raised.

“Do you plan on transforming, Nino? Why?”

“I wanna see how Adrien’s meeting with his father goes. You know, so I can be there if it bombs.”

“You wish to spy on your friend?”

“Out of friendship!”

That didn’t seem to make Wayzz any more compliant. “I am unsure about this, Nino.”

“Trust me, it’ll be fine. Wayzz, transform me!”

* * *

Nino, as Jade Turtle, crouched down in a tree across from the Agreste property. He held up his shield and looked at the screen on its inside, which he had zoomed in on one of the preposterously large windows of the mansion. There was a creak as the front door opened and Adrien walked in, Nathalie at his side.

“Your father should be here shortly,” Nathalie explained. “I messaged him in the car.”

Adrien nodded, and Nathalie walked off, Adrien’s bodyguard close behind her. Seconds later, Gabriel Agreste himself appeared. Hands folded behind his back, he walked across the floor and paused at the top of the main staircase, looking down imposingly at his son. “You wished to speak with me, Adrien?”

Suddenly, Nino feared he had given terrible, terrible advice.

“Yes, about a birthday party,” Adrien said, perfectly professional.

Gabriel sighed and adjusted his glasses. “Has Nathalie not informed you of my decision yet?”

“She did, but I was hoping you would reconsider.”

“I will not. There is no reason why you should have a party, Adrien. It is beneath you and beneath our family. My decision is final.”

“But why is it beneath us? All I want to do is hang out with my friends, is that so bad?”

Whoops. There went the professionalism.

“Adrien, there are many people who may want to take advantage of your assets and your connection to me. You need to be more careful about who you associate with.”

“Father, you’re being paranoid! My friends are _not_ out to get you!”

“Being paranoid got me—got us—to where we are today, Adrien! You have been attending school for a little over a week and already you think you can just invite random people from the streets into our house? You are an _Agreste_ first and foremost; don’t forget that, or I may have to return you to homeschooling. Furthermore, you are grounded for wasting my time with this nonsense. Now, if that will be all, I have work to attend to.”

Gabriel turned on his heel and retreated further into the mansion; Adrien, fists trembling, ran back outside.

Well, that could’ve gone better. Nino let his transformation go and dropped down onto the sidewalk just in time to catch Adrien as he ran out of the manor.

“I, uh, take it that it didn’t go very well?” he asked.

“I’m grounded.”

“Oh, shit, man. I’m sorry.” 

Adrien didn’t say anything—just stared across the street at nothing.

“Uh…”

“I’m not sure I’m even a son to him,” Adrien said, and it was so out of the blue that Nino couldn’t think of a response. Fortunately, Adrien wasn’t waiting on one. “I’m his perfect employee. I can’t refuse a job, I can’t quit. Can’t leave. I have to do whatever he tells me. I’m just… a _picture_ to him. A bunch of pictures he can make money off of and control. Same with Chloé! I thought she was my friend, but she’s just like my father. I’m a picture she wants to have. She doesn’t even care about who I am!”

“I, uh… dude, this is gonna sound real cheesy, but you’re a lot more than just a picture. To me, to Alya and Marinette… we care about you, dude.”

Adrien looked at him. He didn’t seem very cheered up at all. “Thanks, Nino, but you don’t understand.”

“Wha—”

“I should get back inside before I’m in even more trouble.” Without another word, Adrien disappeared into the mansion.

* * *

“I don’t know about this, Alya. So much could go wrong!” Marinette was standing in front of the gates to the Agreste property, and Alya was there with her, her patience running thin.

“Marinette, I swear to god, just ring the damn doorbell.”

“But someone could answer!”

Alya shoved her face into her hands. “Yes, Mari. That’s the point of ringing the doorbell.”

“But what if Adrien answers?”

“Oh my god.” Alya stepped towards the doorbell.

Marinette grabbed her around the stomach and tried to pull her away. “Alya, no!”

Alya rang the doorbell. Marinette slumped to the ground with a whimper. Alya took her arm and yanked her back up again.

“Get it together, girl!” she whispered, harshly. “You don’t want to be on the ground if someone answers!”

That put Marinette into a panic. She quickly got up, half-hid behind Alya, adjusted her hair, and broke into a nervous smile. Alya rolled her eyes and waited.

And waited. Was nobody home? No, that couldn’t be right.

“Is, uh, anybody coming?” Marinette asked. She had apparently calmed down enough to notice something was up, so that was a good sign.

“Dunno. You’d think we’d get at least some response, but—holy shit!”

In one blinding flash of white light, the entire Agreste mansion vanished. In its place stood a massive polaroid, a picturesque snapshot of the mansion displayed on its surface under a subtle warm-orange filter.

“Oh my god!” Marinette exclaimed, clasping her hands over her mouth and taking a step back. 

The photograph balanced on its edge for a short second before the bottom fell out. It swung forward with an accompanying gust of wind, then back again as it slowly floated down to a rest over the empty stretch of land where the manor had previously stood.

“Okay, well, maybe that’s why no one was answering the doorbell,” Alya guessed.

“Is—is this another one of those weird possessed monster things with crazy superpowers?”

“An akuma? Probably. I, uh, I should probably go home.”

Marinette nodded dumbly. “Yeah, same.”

“Stay safe!” Alya called, before taking off at a dead sprint.

She rounded the corner of the block and slammed straight into Nino, sending them both tumbling to the concrete.

“Agh!” she spat, sharply, as she hit the ground. “Sorry about that.” She picked herself up and offered Nino a hand.

“My bad, dude,” he said, taking her hand. She pulled him up. “Wasn’t looking where I was going.”

“I mean.” Alya gestured over her shoulder. “We were turning a corner. Pretty sure that wasn’t your fault.”

“I… um, well, true.”

Alya laughed. “Well, I gotta split. Later!”

“Later,” Nino said, flashing her a loose smile. She spared him a salute and a wink before rushing off to transform.

* * *

In the time it took for Alya to find a safe transforming spot and return to the mansion, Jade had reached the scene himself. He was on his knees on his board, hovering just above the surface of the photo, like a kid looking into a river. 

Alya flew up next to him. “Well this is a weird one.”

“Hmm?” Jade looked up at her. “Yeah.”

Alya poked the picture with her flute. Nothing special happened. “Sooo… the akuma turned it into a polaroid? That’s their power?”

“Are you saying it’s a bad power?” Jade questioned, raising an eyebrow.

“Yeah, kinda.”

“Would _you_ like to be turned into a polaroid?”

“Well, no.”

“See? Good power.”

“Oh, come on!” Alya protested, throwing her hands up. “The last akuma could shoot lightning!”

Jade stood up to face her and crossed his arms. “And this one can turn people into inanimate objects. That, Volps, is an instakill.”

“Whatever. I still think—”

She was cut off by a scream. Always with the screams! Can’t two superheroes have a decent conversation without being cut off by screams? Alya huffed and flew after Jade, who was already speeding off towards the source.

The screamer was one Rose Lavillant. Apparently, the mere sight of the empty space where the mansion had once been was enough to make her scream. As soon as they confirmed that there wasn’t any immediate danger, Alya placed her flute back across her back and Jade lowered his shield. Rose was, as usual, with Juleka, who was leaning back against a kiosk with a Gabriel Agreste advertisement and looking generally uninterested in things.

“Why are you two here?” Jade asked, once Rose and Juleka got over the initial ‘wow the superheroes are talking to us’ daze. Well, once Rose did. Juleka didn’t seem too fazed. “You should go home; we think there’s an akuma on the loose.”

Juleka glanced at where the Agreste Manor wasn’t. “Never woulda guessed.”

“Oh, but I just found out it’s Adrien’s birthday!” Rose cried. “And I didn’t find out until Chloé mentioned it to Sabrina at the top of the steps after school, but by then he was already gone! And so Juleka”—the girl gave a curt wave—“suggested we go to his house to meet him there!”

“Okay, sorry, but why is this that important?” Alya asked.

“Rose gets really sad if she misses someone’s birthday,” Juleka answered.

“Everyone deserves to hear happy birthday on their birthday!” Rose said.

Alya caught a flicker of movement and her eyes snapped to the kiosk advertisement, but there was nothing there except for Adrien’s sweetly smiling face.

“Isn’t it a bit much to have an advertisement for the Agreste brand right outside the Agreste mansion?” she wondered aloud.

“Ooh! Ooh!” Rose jumped up and down. “Juleka knows a lot about fashion!”

Juleka shrugged. “I guess. Not really. Just that Gabriel Agreste’s newest line is really in with the high school crowd right now; that’s probably why there are posters and stuff everywhere. Like, I can’t go anywhere without seeing Adrien’s face. Nothing against him or anything—it’s just, like, yeah, you know?” 

“Oh, definitely!” Rose said cheerfully.

“…Right,” said Jade. “Well, if that’s all, I’d suggest you two—”

“Jade,” Alya interrupted. “The poster.”

In the advertisement, Adrien’s eyes narrowed, and his smile broke into a decidedly evil grin. Then his clothing changed: the business-casual clothes he was modeling were quickly replaced by a black bodysuit. Well, most of it was black—the collar, hands and feet were white, and the rainbow stripes that were on the t-shirt he always wore appeared too, tilted on a diagonal and matching up with similar stripes on his arms. The silver ring he wore around his finger had turned an eerie green, and to top it all off, a simple yet somehow incredibly fashionable black mask appeared on his face. The entire change took no longer than a second, and when it was done, the advertisement flashed and Adrien—or, rather, the akumatized version of him—burst forth from the picture.

“Get back!” Jade shouted, but he was too late. The akuma reached out his hands, one towards Rose and the other towards Juleka. Two flashes of light later and the girls were gone.

“Rose! Juleka!” Alya shouted.

The akumatized Adrien snatched two photographs out of the air from where Rose and Juleka had been standing. Their classmates were smiling at the ‘camera,’ makeup perfect, lighting perfect, pose perfect, the Agreste property in the background serving as a perfect backdrop. Had she not known it was crazy dark magic at work, Alya may have mistaken them for pictures from a professional photoshoot.

“Those two turned out well, didn’t they?” he sneered.

“Adrien?” Jade asked.

“I’m not Adrien anymore!” the akuma roared. “I’m _Photowrath!”_

“Photowrath?” Alya repeated in disbelief. “You’re kidding me.”

Photowrath snarled and raised his hands threateningly. “Everybody treats me like I’m just a picture! Now _they’ll_ know how it feels!”

Next to her, Jade winced, but readied his shield for a throw anyway. Alya grabbed his wrist. “Wait, don’t! What if he touches your shield?”

Jade’s eyes widened. “He can _do_ that? But our weapons are magical too! Wouldn’t they be protected?”

“I’d rather not find out.”

Photowrath let loose a roar about stealing their Miraculous and leapt forward. Jade tackled Alya to the ground, causing Photowrath to soar over them.

“How do we fight him then?” he asked.

“We need time to plan.” Alya raised her flute. “Fox’s Cunning!” 

Their bodies vanished immediately; Photowrath looked around for a second before snarling and disappearing back into the kiosk.

Once she was sure the coast was clear, Alya cancelled the illusion and their bodies materialized. Jade was, once again, lying on top of her, and she was, once again, entirely okay with this.

Sadly, Jade quickly got up, red in the face. “I, uh… really need to stop falling on top of you like that.”

“Let’s agree to disagree.”

“Huh?”

“Looks like we’ll have to track Photowrath down now.”

“I, uh.” Jade shook his head. “Right. Might not be that easy, though, if he can pop up anywhere there’s a picture of him. There’s a _lot_ of pictures of Adrien.”

Alya chuckled to herself, immediately thinking of Marinette’s Wall of Adrien. Talk about a lot of pictures of Adrien…

Oh, crap, that was a lot of pictures of Adrien.

“I’ve gotta go,” Alya said suddenly, turning to look Jade in the eye.

“No, _we’ve_ gotta go,” Jade said, tapping at the screen in his shield. “Mayor Bourgeois wants us at his hotel. He says it’s an emergency.”

Alya’s necklace beeped, and a section of the miraculous flickered and died. “Can you take care of it? I’ve got something I have to do.”

“But your timer—”

“I’ll be fine. I’ll meet up with you later!”

Alya took to the skies before he could protest, angling for the Dupain-Cheng’s.

* * *

Less than a minute after Volpina had ditched him, Nino was standing in the lobby of Le Grand Paris. (Having a magical shell-shaped hoverboard had some advantages.) The active secretary jumped up and rushed over to meet him.

“Oh, thank you so much for coming, M. Turtle! The Mayor wants to see you as soon as possible, come right this way!”

“M. Turtle?” Nino mumbled.

The secretary led him into an elevator, up to the top floor, and into one of the suites. When he walked in, Nino knew at once that it was Chloé’s room. Everything looked incredibly expensive, the toilet and bathtub were made of actual, real, genuine _gold,_ the mirror had a honeycomb-patterned, the closet had about a million different designer shoes, and the bed had those curtain things—you know, like, the ones you see on beds for royalty and stuff? Perhaps the most telling signs, though, were the three large posters on the walls; Jagged Stone, Volpina (Chloé proclaimed herself to be best friends with Volpina. Nino somehow doubted it), and, most importantly, one of Adrien’s modeling pictures.

When Nino saw Mayor Bourgeois weeping on the bed and holding a photograph, he had a pretty good idea of what had happened.

“Oh, it’s horrible, just horrible!” the Mayor wailed, bouncing from the bed and hobbling towards Nino. “My poor, precious Chloé! Turned into a _photograph!_ Please, M. Turtle, you have to do something!”

Nino held the Mayor off at arm’s length and spared a glance at the picture—Chloé alright, looking even more rich than she did in real life, posing with one hand on her hip and the other pinching the frame of her sunglasses. 

Nino moved his eyes from the photo back to the Mayor. “I am doing something, it’s kinda my job. How’d this happen?”

“I don’t know! I heard a scream, but by the time I got in she was… she was…” Mayor Bourgeois burst into tears. Again.

Considering the time since Adrien’s akumatization and the incident outside the mansion, Adrien must’ve come straight here after picture-izing his mansion. Apparently, he really did have some pent-up frustration towards Chloé. Nino supposed it wasn’t really surprising; who didn’t have pent-up frustration towards Chloé? 

Nino jumped. Out of the corner of his eye, he saw the poster of Adrien change.

It was a subtle shift: Adrien’s eyes narrowed, and his smile curved upwards in the same crazed manor it had back outside the manor; subtle, but telling.

“Get back!” Nino shouted, raising his shield. 

“What? What’s going on?!” shouted the Mayor, bumbling about behind Nino. Well, as long as he was behind the him, Nino supposed it would have to do.

He had to tell Volpina. Nino poked at the screen inside his shield; it flickered to life, and a picture of a phone appeared.

Fully transformed, Photowrath burst from the poster. “Found you! You’re not getting away this time!”

The call rang, and rang again. She wasn’t picking up.

Photowrath charged, and the Mayor screamed. Nino jumped backwards, his shield, still ringing, sweeping underneath his legs to catch him. He wrapped his arms around the Mayor and had his shield launch him upwards. Photowrath’s wild swing just barely missed them as they flew over his head; Nino landed cleanly at the foot of Chloé’s bed, and the Mayor plopped down onto the mattress, bouncing once in the air before coming to a rest. With a flick of his hand, Nino thrust his shield into Photowrath’s exposed back, knocking the akuma to the ground. 

_“Greetings,”_ buzzed the shield as it re-attached to Nino’s arm. _“You’ve reached the fox miraculous. My chosen isn’t transformed right now. She’s busy doing very important things. More important than what you’re doing, almost certainly. Because I have a better eye for potential superheroes than you, you stupid turtle.”_

Nino raised his eyebrow. He’d never thought a kwami would be so… well, rude. And petty. And haughty. He felt kinda bad for Volpina.

Across the suite, Photowrath had just accidentally turned the rug into a photo. He got to his feet and turned to face Nino, raising his hands menacingly.

“Dodge all you want, Jade Turtle! This will be over in a _snap!”_

_“On the off chance that whatever you have to say is even marginally important compared to the escapades of the great fox,”_ continued the voice on the shield, _“please leave a message after the beep. And keep it short!”_

The shield beeped; Photowrath picked up the picture of the rug and threw it like a shuriken at Nino. He jumped out of the way.

“Uh, hey, it’s Jade. I’m fighting Photowrath at the—ack!”

Photowrath started grabbing flowers from a vase on one of Chloé’s tables; each one of them turned into a polaroid that he threw at Jade. He enlarged his shield and crouched behind it, the spinning photos slamming into its surface with far more force than one would reasonably expect from a photo.

“At Le Grand Paris,” Nino continued, “and it would be pretty nice if you could get over here, like, _now._ Thanks!” Nino tapped the screen to end the call. He hoped she got the message soon.

“Monsieur Turtle, look out!” cried the Mayor.

Too late, Nino realized the barrage of photos had stopped. He peeked over the shield to see Photowrath’s gloved hand shooting towards his face, the green ring on his hand catching the light. Nino had asked Adrien about that ring a few days ago. He’d said it was a gift from his—from his mother. 

Oh.

But he didn’t have the opportunity to worry about right now. He brought up his shield just in time to intercept the attack—and his shield vanished in a flash of light, replaced by a polaroid. Well, shit. 

Photowrath didn’t break rhythm. Before Nino could retreat, his other hand was approaching, and fast; and without the shield, Nino’s options were limited.

“Shell!”

The green hexagonal light of the spell burst forth from the picture that now held his shield, creating a dome around Photowrath. But the akuma didn’t stop his attack, and his glove crashed against the Shell. Light exploded throughout the suite as the two magics fought each other, and Nino was thrown back against the wall.

Boy, he really hoped Volpina had gotten his message.

* * *

Marinette burst into the bakery panting. There were no customers: news of the akuma had traveled quickly, and everybody had no doubt rushed home. Her mother flew across the room and took her into a hug.

“Oh, I’m so glad you’re okay, sweetie!”

Marinette returned the hug. “Me too. I was right there when the Agreste mansion disappeared; it was pretty spooky.”

“Were you now?” Tom said, walking out of the kitchen and wiping his hands with a dishtowel. His apron was caked with flour. “You seem to have a knack for getting wrapped up in these supervillain attacks, honey.”

“Tell me about it,” Marinette said, rolling her eyes. “I just hope Jade Turtle and Volpina can take care of this one before I bumble my way into it again.”

“You’ll be fine as long as you stay here,” Sabine said.

“I hope so. I’m going to get a snack and head up to my room. I think I want to lie down for a while.”

“Alright, sweetie,” said Tom. “Love you!”

“Love you too!”

Two minutes later, Marinette was slouched in her spinny chair, a bag of microwave popcorn in her lap. She felt _ugh._ Her father had a point, and it was bothering her—it seemed like she was somehow inexplicably there for every single ‘akuma attack’, as Jade Turtle had called them in one of the few interviews the superheroes had given. Maybe it was just coincidence; she certainly hoped so.

Sighing with exhaustion, she let her eyes wander, inevitably leading to her staring at one of her many photos of Adrien Agreste. Sweet, handsome Adrien. Oh, if she could just build up the courage to actually ask him out—or at least talk to him, goddammit! It was so _embarrassing_ how flustered she became whenever he was near! She wished she had Alya’s confidence. That girl would stare down Satan himself if it would get her what she wanted.

She let her eyes move from picture to picture. She wanted to put more up, but that risked two things: running out of wall space, and Alya teasing her even more. On the other hand, _Adrien._

At length, she came to a stop on a ripped-off magazine cover she’d taped above her sewing machine. Adrien was modeling his father’s Autumn line, and he was doing that thing guys do when wearing jackets where you grab either side right under your collar and, like, pull it forward, and he was looking sideways into the camera, and doing that little smirk thing he does, and it was really, _really_ hot. She sighed again, this time definitely not with exhaustion. 

And then things got weird.

The picture—Adrien, in the picture, the photo of Adrien, the one that shouldn’t be able to move—began grinning sinisterly. A mask spread across his eyes, his clothes were replaced by a black and white bodysuit, and he stepped out into the room. 

Marinette scrambled backwards, but since she was sitting down on a chair with wheels, this meant she awkwardly fell over backwards into a heap on the floor. (It was not, in fact, the first time this had happened to her. Nor the second, third, or fourth time. And she’d gotten the chair two months ago.)

“A-adrien?”

The person that may or may not be Adrien reached out a hand towards her. Her throat closed up; their eyes met, hers trembling slightly and his… conflicted. He stopped moving for a few long, long seconds, and they stared at each other, the only sound between them Marinette’s heavy breathing. 

“No,” he said, at last, and it was Adrien’s voice. He turned away from her and jumped back into the photo.

Marinette lay there on her bedroom floor for at least another minute while she tried to figure out what the hell had just happened. She didn’t have time to puzzle it out before a knock came from the trapdoor that led out to her balcony.

Wait, a knock from her balcony? How’d someone get up there? This day was just getting weirder and weirder. Slightly dazed, she clambered up the staircase to her loft and opened the hatch.

Volpina floated down through the trapdoor, hovering above Marinette’s bed. “Yo.”

Marinette blinked. “What were you doing on my balcony?”

“Well,” Volpina said, rotating her body forward in the air so she was eye-level with Marinette, “I happen to have reason to believe that you might get a certain visit from a certain akuma.” Her necklace let out a beeping sound; a bit more than half of it was a dull black. “And I’m also kind of on a tight schedule, so listen closely. He can travel through anything that has a picture of him on it—”

“So that _was_ Adrien, then!” Marinette blurted out. “Oh, no!”

Volpina’s eyes went wide. “He already came?!”

“You just missed him,” Marinette said. “He stepped out of one of my pictures, stared at me for a bit, and then, just… left.”

“That’s it? He just, like, left? Really?”

The way Volpina was looking at her, she obviously had expected something more, but Marinette had nothing else to give. So she nodded.

“Okay. Well. That’s strange.” Volpina’s necklace beeped again, and frantically—it was down to only one orange section. “Gotta go. I don’t think you’re in any danger, so… see you soon!”

She winked, and flew out of the skylight feet-first, pulling it up after herself with one gloved hand. 

Marinette climbed back down from her loft in a daze, and collapsed into her spinny chair again, turning in slow circles. What the hell was going on?

There was another knock, on the lower trapdoor this time; you know, the one normal people who don’t have crazy magical powers used.

“Ugh, what now?” Marinette whined, as loud as she could without risking her visitor hearing her. She got up and opened the trapdoor.

Alya popped out. She winked. “Hey, girl!”

“Oh, hi, Alya. Uh… why are you here?”

“I’m just checking to make sure you got home okay. Looks like you’re doing just fine though, so I guess I’ll be heading.”

“Wait! Alya, you can stay if you—”

The trapdoor banged closed with a thud. Marinette put her wrists to her forehead and slowly dragged her hands down her face. 

_What. The fuck. Is going on._

She decided not to worry about it. Maybe she’d just take a nap.

When she turned back to her room, her popcorn was gone. She almost punched a wall.

* * *

Alya loitered against the cold brick wall of the alley way as Trixx finished up the last of Marinette’s popcorn. 

“I feel kinda shitty for stealing Mari’s popcorn,” Alya said.

“I don’t,” Trixx proclaimed. “It’s quite fine popcorn.”

“It’s microwaved.”

“You’re point?”

Alya rolled her eyes.

“Oh, and your boyfriend called you while we were in there. The second time we were in there. He left a message.”

“Jade? He’s not my boyfriend.” Not yet, anyway. “How do you know?”

“Magic,” Trixx said simply.

“Right. Whatever. What did he say?”

“No idea. We’ll find out together when you transform. Speaking of which—” Trixx horfed down the rest of the popcorn. “I’m ready.”

“About time,” Alya muttered. “Trixx, transform me!”

Once the wave of magic died down, Alya pulled out her flute. The top third of it split down the middle and slid outwards to each side, a semi-transparent screen stretching between the two sides. Not as convenient as Jade’s, she supposed, but it looked cooler, and everyone knew that’s what counted.

A few clicks, and suddenly Jade’s voice was playing back through the flute. _“Uh, hey, it’s Jade. I’m fighting Photowrath at the—ack!”_

Alya heard a series of zap-like magical sounds, the sound of Jade’s shield growing, and a bunch of muted thunks. A moment passed, and Jade’s began talking again.

_“At Le Grand Paris, and it would be pretty nice if you could get over here, like,_ now. _Thanks!”_

Alya smirked. “Looks like we’ve got a turtle to save.”

* * *

Alya was still about a thirty seconds out from the hotel when an unbelievably bright light exploded from one of the top floor windows. 

“That damn turtle better be alright.” 

Alya put on an extra burst of speed; it was times like these she wished her magical floaty powers were less precise and more recklessly fast. Sure, it helped to be able to move exactly how one wanted to in the air, but sometimes she felt flinging herself headlong towards a building at high speeds would be a lot more effective. Nonetheless, Alya arrived at the hotel in record time. She switched to the Song of Mountain a few yards from the window that the light had come out of, dropping through it with a kick to the glass.

Inside, it was chaos. Mayor Bourgeois, who had been cowering in an unfortunate position directly below the window Volpina had broken, was shouting and cursing as a wave of broken glass rained down upon him. Past him, Photowrath was running around the room, turning whatever he could get his gloves on into photographs which he was then throwing at Jade. Jade was yelping and running around like a chicken with his head cut off. His shield was nowhere in sight, and from the beeping Alya heard, he’d already used Shell. 

So, basically, nothing she couldn’t handle.

Alya jumped over the Mayor to the massive king-sized bed, and lifted it off the ground with little effort, hurling it at Photowrath.

Photowrath laughed. “Ha! You fool! I can turn anything into a picture!”

Alya flicked her wrist, sending a small piece of glass after the bed. Because of her super strength, the small, aerodynamic shard cut through the air like a bullet, zooming past the bed and hitting Photowrath in the shoulder.

“Ow!” he cried, reaching to pull the glass out with his hand.

The bed slammed into him while he was distracted, smashing him through the far wall and into the hallway.

“Thanks,” Jade said. He was bent over with his hands on his knees, breathing hard. “I don’t know how much longer I would have been able to keep that up.”

Alya wanted to make some smart comment about saving him yet again, but she was cut off by a bright blue flash from outside before she could open her mouth. It was probably best to wrap this up.

“Do you know where the akuma’s hidden?” she asked Jade.

“His ring, I’m sure of it.”

“Got it.” She surveyed the area. “Alright, I’m going to need you to provoke him.”

“Um, don’t know if you noticed, but…” Jade lifted his arms. “No shield.”

“Well, don’t get touched, then.”

He raised an eyebrow.

“Trust me, okay? I’ve got a plan.”

“Fine. But if I get turned into a picture, Volpina, it won’t be pretty.”

Alya tilted her head down and gave a wry smirk. “I think you’d be pretty.” 

Jade narrowed his eyes disapprovingly. “Volpina, stop fooling—”

“Quick, here he comes!”

Jade swiveled around to face Photowrath, his frustration with her forgotten. Alya backed up into the suite’s bathroom and reached for her flute. 

“Song of the River.”

The familiar feeling of swiftness flowed into her, but she didn’t move just yet. Instead, she kept her flute ready at her mouth.

“Hey, pretty boy!” Jade called. “You know, if you keep wrecking Chloé’s room, she might break up with you!”

Photowrath exploded with rage. “I am _not_ dating that brat! I don’t even _like_ her!” he roared, charging forward.

“No need to be so blunt…” mumbled Mayor Bourgeois from behind a potted plant.

Jade handsprung out of Photowrath’s reach. “You sure? You two seem made for each other!”

Photowrath snarled and charged again.

“Fox’s Cunning!”

Jade vanished, and in his place, Marinette Dupain-Cheng appeared, cowering on the ground in fear. “A-adrien?”

Photowrath’s eyes went wide and he skidded to a halt, lowering his hand. A second later, a blur of orange streaked across the room; Alya stopped in front of Photowrath for a split second, deftly slipping his ring off his finger before zipping out of his reach once again and crushing the ring under her foot.

“Wait, how are you going to capture the akuma?” Alya asked. Shit. She hadn’t thought of that.

“Uhhh. I’ve got an idea,” Jade said.

His bracelet let out a warning beep—Alya supposed he wouldn’t be sticking around very long after this. Oh well. 

The akuma fluttered out of the shattered ring and made its way towards the window. “Quick! It’s getting away!”

Jade raced across the room and picked one of the many photos off the ground; the one of his shield. 

“When I called on Shell, it still cast, even though my shield was picturized. So, theoretically…” He trailed off and poked at the picture. It began to shine white.

“You’re kidding,” Alya muttered, dumbfounded.

Jade threw the photo at the akuma. It caught the butterfly in a brilliant flash, then bounced off a wall and fell dully to the floor.

Alya shook her head. “No. I’m sorry, no. What? This makes no sense.”

“Don’t underestimate the powers of the turtle,” Jade said, picking up the photograph again. 

“Awesome Turtle!” he shouted, holding the photo above his head. The swarm of turtles burst forth; immediately, the picture expanded back into a shield, and Alya’s vision went green for a few seconds. When it cleared, the room was perfectly put back together.

“Nice job!” they chorused, exchanging a high-five. 

_Beep!_ Jade looked down at his bracelet. “Gotta go. Catch you next time!”

Alya gave a short wave and a fond smirk as he hopped on his shield and sped off. 

That’s when she noticed the crying. Puzzled, she turned around to see Mayor Bourgeois hugging Chloé and weeping openly, mumbling incoherent sentences about how happy he was she had returned to normal.

Chloé noticed her staring. “Ugh! Dad, you’re embarrassing me in front of Volpina! What did I tell you about crying in front of my friends?”

Alya cocked her head. “We’re not friends.”

Chloé rolled her eyes. “Duh, of course we are. Everyone’s friends with me if I want them to be.”

Her necklace beeped. She must have missed a beep earlier, too, because she was already down to three sections. She _really_ had no time to waste on Chloé.

She turned away from the Bourgeoises and approached Adrien, picking his newly-repaired ring up off the carpet and handing it to him.

He had a dark expression on his face. “I was akumatized, wasn’t I?”

Alya nodded. “You’re friends were really worried about you.”

“T-they were?” he asked, sounding hopeful. Like he was surprised. That was kind of sad.

“Yep,” she said. “Alya, Nino… especially Marinette.”

He blushed. “M-marinette? Was worried? About me?”

Alya winked. “Very. Well, I’d love to stay and chat about your new girlfriend—”

“Wait—no, she’s not my—I mean, she’s—”

Alya put a finger across his lips, shutting him up. “But I’ve gotta split. Get home safe!”

Alya played the song for flight and backwards swan-dived out the window, giggling to herself. Having a secret identity could be a whole lot of fun sometimes.

* * *

“God, they are _so_ awkward,” Alya whispered to Nino.

The four of them were standing in front of the Agreste mansion, which was back to its usual dreary self. Due to his time limit, Nino had been forced to detransform immediately outside of Le Grand Paris, and had run all the way over here in the hopes of catching Adrien as he made his way back. To his surprise, when he’d arrived, Alya had already been there.

“Marinette’s coming, too,” she’d said when he asked what she was doing there. “I’m going to get these two idiots together if it’s the last thing I do.”

And, because the universe seemed to enjoy practical jokes, Marinette had arrived with her gift at the _exact same time_ as Adrien. Presently, they were staring at each other. Neither had managed to complete a coherent sentence.

“Should we do something?” Nino whispered back.

“Don’t worry yourself, DJ, I got this.”

Alya strutted forward with her usual unbreakable confidence, calling out to Adrien. “I’m glad you’re okay, Adrien!”

He snapped out of his trance. “O-oh, yeah, I am, mostly. I don’t really remember anything, but… yeah. I hope I didn’t worry you too much.”

“Nah,” Alya said, cocking a hip and waving him off. “Not me. But Marinette was super worried.”

“ALYA!” Marinette cried indignantly, trying to hide behind her present. 

“Really?” Adrien said, softly. “I mean, that makes sense, it’s just… sweet of you.”

Marinette’s face was so red it put Clifford to shame. “O-oh, yeah, well, I mean, it’s just… it kinda sucks to be possessed on your birthday, right?”

Adrien nodded. “Yeah, it—”

“Oh!” Marinette cut him off. “Speaking of birthdays, this is for you?”

_Man,_ Nino thought. _You know you sound nervous when everything you say sounds like a question._

“Really? T-thanks, Marinette!” Adrien said, taking the package.

Alya walked back to Nino, taking him by the arm and leading him away while their friends were distracted.

“And now,” she said, “we leave them to it.”

“Dude, you were right; you _do_ got this,” Nino said, following Alya around the corner.

“What can I say? I’m the best. If you ever need a wingwoman, you know where to find me.” She punctuated the sentence with a wink.

What was with girls and winking at him? Though, there was something different when Alya did it. Volpina was playfully flirty and didn’t take anything seriously; her winks didn’t really mean anything. But Alya was a combination of confident, cool, pragmatic, real, sexy, out of his league…

Nino sighed. He was so fucked.

* * *

The next day at school, Adrien was sporting a new scarf, and Nino suggested they start eating lunch with the girls.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Next time, on Miraculous:
> 
> Volpina stabbed the lamp post back into the sidewalk. "Good as new."
> 
> Stay tuned!


	5. The Pharaoh

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which Jalil teaches everyone a history lesson.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> If I had a nickel for every time I misspelled 'pharaoh' when I was writing this chapter, I'd have, like, a lot of nickels.

“You said you had something to show me?” Nino asked, pushing the door to his room closed.

“Yes!” Wayzz exclaimed, zipping out of his hat. “Now that you are comfortable holding a Miraculous, it is time to begin teaching you more about the history of the stones.”

“Oh. I guess I was kinda wondering about why they exist and stuff.” Nino dropped down into his chair and tilted his head back, staring at the ceiling. “I mean, right now we’re just using them to fight another Miraculous, but that obviously can’t be their purpose. What were they made to fight?”

“Do not get ahead of yourself, Nino. The history of the Miraculous is intricate and vast. We must start small.” Wayzz flitted over to Nino’s laptop and started zooming from key to key impossibly fast; seconds later, Nino was looking at the Louvre’s website. There was an exhibit on Ancient Egypt this week.

“An exhibit at the Louvre?”

“Indeed! You should find something there of great interest, if you know where to look.”

“But I don’t know where to look. Couldn’t you just tell me what this is? I mean, come on, I just got back from school.”

“If I told you everything myself, you would never learn. You must take initiative and explore your own destiny, Nino. Besides, it could be fun. You can bring a friend if you wish.”

Wayzz dropped onto the desk, and Nino leaned back in his chair. Well, it looked like he was going whether he liked it or not, and he supposed it would be better with a friend along. He reached into his pocket, pulled out his phone, and opened his contacts list. His finger was millimeters away from ‘Adrien Agreste’ when he noticed ‘Alya Césaire’ a few names down and paused. It couldn’t hurt, right? And, besides, he had to take every chance he got to become familiar around her, or else he’d never have the courage to make a move. He steeled himself and pressed call.

* * *

Alya was studying for the exam on Ancient Egypt she had tomorrow when her phone rang. Marinette was the only person who really called her regularly, and so she was both surprised and curious when Nino’s name appeared on the screen.

“Hey Nino. What’s up?”

_“Oh, hey, Alya. I was gonna head over to the Louvre’s exhibit on Ancient Egypt, wanna come with?”_

Alya looked down at her textbook and almost laughed. Great timing. “Yeah, sure, I’m not doing anything important. Just out of curiosity, though, why are you inviting me?”

_“What?”_

“I mean, it’s just, you normally hang with Adrien, right? I just assumed you’d invite him.”

_“Oh, right. Yeah, um, I did invite him first, yeah, but he said he was gonna invite Mari, and I was like, that’d be hella awkward, so that’s why I’m inviting you now.”_

Alya chuckled. “Yeah, good call, dude. I wouldn’t want to be alone with those two either.”

_“So is, like, fifteen minutes good?”_

“Sure thing.”

The line clicked dead.

* * *

“An exhibit at the Louvre?” Adrien asked. He’d just gotten out of the shower and was currently combing his hair.

Nino hummed in affirmation on the other end. _“And it’s educational, so your father can’t complain.”_

“Yeah, good point. It’ll be nice to get out of the house for a bit.”

_“Oh, you know what, dude?”_

“What?”

_“You should totally invite Marinette.”_

“What?!” Adrien cried, accidentally slipping on the wet floor and just barely catching himself on the sink, overturning his collection of about twenty different bottles of beauty products in the process. (No, he didn’t have a problem, he swore. It was a model thing.) He quickly righted himself and calmed down his voice. “I-I mean, sure, but why don’t you invite her?”

_“Because I’m not the one with the massive crush on her.”_

“I—you—” Adrien’s mouth formed various soundless shapes. After a few seconds, he managed a very weak and unconvincing “No…”

_“Dude, you gotta go for it. I mean, like, I know you’re not strong enough a person to tell her how you feel, but at least learn to talk to her, man. Don’t worry, I’ll be there at the museum, and I can invite Alya too so there’s less tension."_

“I don’t know, Nino…”

_“Trust me, Dude! It’ll all work out fine."_

“…Fine. But if I embarrass myself I’m blaming you.”

_“That’s fair. See you two in fifteen?”_

“Sure.”

Adrien hung up. _Alright, Agreste, time to bring the charm. Marinette won’t know what hit her._

He looked down at his robe. He should probably put some clothes on first.

* * *

Nino hung up and flopped back onto his bed. That was that taken care of. Well, assuming Adrien managed to call Marinette successfully, but he wasn’t worried. They might be stuttering messes around each other, but Adrien would manage to get the message across eventually, and Marinette would _certainly_ follow through with any invitation Adrien sent her.

“Are you sure all that was necessary?” Wayzz asked.

“I panicked,” Nino replied. 

“I do not pretend to know much about human culture, Nino, but I think what you just created qualifies as a… what did you call it… a ‘clusterfuck?’ Would it not have been easier to tell your friend Alya the truth?”

“NO!” Nino shouted, looking at Wayzz like he was crazy, which he clearly was if he actually thought that. “But I guess I could’ve come up with a better excuse. Gah. Whatever. It’s probably better that Adrien Marinette are coming, anyway. Just the two of us there would feel way too much like a date. Which I guess is what I want, though? I don’t know, I’m a mess, Wayzz, I’m a hot mess.”

Wayzz looked at him with a profoundly befuddled expression. “I am… not sure I followed all of that, Nino.”

“Good. Yes. That’s good.” Ugh, at least Volpina wasn’t here to see this. She’d never stop teasing him about it. 

Idly, he wondered, not for the first time, who Volpina was behind the mask. Well, not, like, _who_ she was, because that had to be kept secret; more like how she acted. Was she different? Was she still as cocky and playful as she was when she was a superhero? Nino knew that he took everything way more seriously as Jade Turtle than he did as Nino, but Volpina didn’t really seem to take much seriously as Volpina, so what did that mean about civilian-Volpina? Ugh, secret identities were confusing. He probably just shouldn’t worry about it.

Sighing, he stood up and put on his shoes. He didn’t have a car or bike or anything, and there was no way his mother would drive him, meaning he would be going to Louvre on foot. Better start walking.

* * *

Alya checked her clock and cursed; it was past time to start heading to the museum. _Let’s see… phone, check; earbuds, check; emergency backup earbuds, check; emergency backup phone battery, check; purse, check; God of the Mind—_

The God of the Mind was busy eating popcorn inside a trashcan. Alya sighed. “Trixx, come on, we gotta go!”

“Go? Alya, don’t I remember you saying that you _absolutely had to study_ for this test?” 

“Yes, but it was boring so I changed my mind. Come on!”

She stuffed Trixx into her purse and charged out the door. She made it all the way to the porch before her mother called out to her. 

“Alya, are you going somewhere? Didn’t you say you had to study?”

“Told you so,” Trixx said from her purse, her muffled voice just loud enough for Alya to hear.

“Mom! Hi! Yeah, I’m gonna go study with a few of my friends at the Louvre. They have an exhibit on Ancient Egypt, which is what our test’s about, so… yeah.”

“Don’t forget your textbook!”

Alya laughed. “Right, silly me.”

She ran back into her room, snatched the textbook off the desk, and ran back out onto the street, swerving into the first available alleyway. Trixx flew out of her purse.

“Wait, are you transforming?”

“Yes! I’m late!”

“Excuse you! The boons which I bestow upon you are not meant to be used as petty _transportation!_ For _shame,_ Alya!”

“Yeah, okay, whatever, but, like, I’m _super_ late, so… Trixx! Transform me!”

Trixx yelled something about respecting one’s elders as she was pulled into the necklace, but it was lost in the transformation, and, frankly, Alya didn’t care either way. As soon as the magical orange glow faded, Alya called on the Song of the River and took off down the sidewalk like a bullet.

* * *

Marinette’s shoes clattered against the sidewalk as she sprinted towards the Louvre.

“I’m late I’m late I’m late I’m late I’m—AAAGH!”

Marinette skidded to a halt as an orange blur zoomed past her, straight into a street light. There was a thunderous clang, and Marinette looked down in shock at Volpina, who was sprawled face-down on the pavement. The streetlight, ripped from the concrete, was trapped under her body. There was also a book lying on the ground—it looked like a textbook or something similar, but Marinette was focusing more on the downed superhero.

“Oh my god, Volpina, are you okay?”

She got up and brushed herself off. “Yeah, yeah, I’m good. Hey, Marinette! Nice to finally see you when you’re not in mortal danger.”

Marinette smirked. “Nice to see you too. So, did you just have a grudge against that street light, or…”

Volpina blushed. “Yeah, well, I’d like to see _you_ try to navigate crowded city streets at that speed.” She picked the lamp post off the ground and stabbed it back into the sidewalk. “There. Good as new.”

Marinette looked at it. The pole was still bent where Volpina had crashed into it, and the whole thing poked out of the ground at a weird angle. The sidewalk was also upturned and fractured around the post. “It’s a little bent, don’t you think?”

Volpina stepped back and examined it. “Hmm.” She brought out her flute. “Song of the mountain!”

A short, pleasing melody poured out of the instrument. Volpina walked up the lamp post, and, with a series of sharp hits, pounded it back into a straight pole. Or, well, as straight as it was going to get by banging on it.

“There. Happy?”

“Very,” Marinette said. 

“Cool. Sorry to bounce out so quickly, but I’m in a bit of a rush, so I’ll see you later. Song of the River!”

“Watch where you’re going this time!” Marinette called after her as she raced down the street.

Marinette sighed and shook her head, smiling softly. Her life had become positively bizarre in the past month, but at least it was more interesting. 

She began walking again, but hadn’t taken two steps when she nearly tripped over something. She looked down.

Volpina had forgotten her textbook.

* * *

Adrien was already waiting by the time Nino arrived, and called him over to the side of the pyramid where he was waiting.

“Are Mari and Alya not here yet?”

Adrien shook his head. “I’m sure they’ll arrive soon.”

“So, Adrien.” Nino elbowed him in the ribs. “How’d that phone call go, dude?”

Adrien blushed. “Oh, shut up, it went fine.”

“I bet you stuttered so much she couldn’t understand you.”

“Nino! Have a little more faith in me, dude! It went fine!”

Nino smiled wider. “But I’m right, right?”

“Oh, look, Alya’s here. Hey, Alya!”

“Hey guys!” she called, running up to them. “Sorry I’m late. You wouldn’t believe how much crap I went through getting here.”

“Marinette’s not with you?” Nino asked.

“Nope. You know that girl, always running late to everything for the weirdest reasons.”

Adrien smiled. “Yeah. I bet she’s got a great story for this time, too.”

“Remember that time she said she accidentally got her arm stuck in a flower pot when watering her plants?” Nino asked, laughing.

“You laugh, Nino,” Alya said, shaking her head, “but I was _there_. That was no laughing matter.”

Adrien began snickering. “How do you even get your hand stuck in a flower pot, anyway?”

“She tripped,” said Alya.

Nino laughed even harder. “I swear, she can trip on _anything._ It’s like a superpower.”

“Wait, wait, I’m still confused,” Adrien said.

Alya shrugged. “What is there to be confused about? She tripped and got her hand stuck in a flower pot.”

“Happens all the time,” Nino added.

Adrien was still laughing, but looked genuinely perplexed. “No, I mean, how does tripping result in getting your hand stuck in a flower pot? Like, was it the soil? Or the actual, you know, pot part?”

“Why don’t you ask her?” Alya said, pointing across the square.

Nino turned his head. Marinette was there, red in the face and panting, as if she’d just finished a marathon. She had a history textbook cradled against her chest.

“Marinette! Over here!” Adrien called.

“Oh, shit,” Alya mumbled.

Nino looked at her while Adrien waved Marinette over. “What is it?”

Alya jumped. She clearly hadn’t meant for anyone to hear her. “Oh, uh, nothing. I just forgot to study for that test tomorrow.”

“Pshhh. Don’t worry about it. I never study.”

“You also never get good grades.”

Nino shrugged. “They’re overrated.” 

Truth was, Alya was right, and he was going to be in big trouble if he couldn’t pull his grades back up. But Alya didn’t need to know any of that. Fortunately, he excelled at playing it cool.

Meanwhile, Marinette had finally caught her breath. “Oh my god, guys, you’re never going to believe what happened on my way here. It was crazy!”

“Isn’t it always with you, girl?” Alya asked with a smirk.

“No, but, like, get this: I ran into Volpina on the way here!”

“What?!” Adrien and Alya asked in tandem. Nino just looked at her quizzically. What would Volpina be doing just wandering Paris when there wasn’t an akuma? Shit, maybe there was an akuma and he just didn’t know about it. No, no way; if that were the case, then Volpina would’ve told Marinette to go home, and she would’ve texted them or something. Volpina may have a bad tendency to joke around during fights, but she wouldn’t put anyone in danger.

“Well, more accurately, she ran past me and into a street lamp and fell over,” Marinette continued.

“Jesus,” Adrien said. “Isn’t she supposed to be, like, superpowered?”

“Running at super speed is probably a lot harder than you’d think,” Alya countered.

“She said she was super late for something,” Marinette said. “She was probably just worried, and didn’t look where she was going. Anyway, she said hi, fixed the light, and then left, but she dropped this textbook.” Marinette held up the textbook.

Nino’s mind began racing. _Damn, is that Volpina’s textbook? Like, her civilian textbook? But that’s—_

“That’s the kind of textbook our school uses!” Adrien exclaimed.

“That doesn’t mean much,” Alya said. “Lots of schools probably use the same textbooks.”

Nino shook his head. “We’re the only school that uses these books, dude. I know because I tried to copy homework off one of my friends from a different district last year.” Ms. Vasque had given him a lunch detention for that, too, and he was still bitter about it.

“Wait, are you saying Volpina goes to our _school?!”_ Marinette shrieked.

“She’d also be in our grade,” Adrien pointed out.

Marinette clutched the textbook even tighter. “That’s true! This is insane!”

“Let’s not get ahead of ourselves,” Alya said. “She could’ve been carrying that textbook for someone else. I mean, do you really think Jade and Volpina are fifteen?”

“Well, I mean, they _could_ be!” Marinette protested. “Come on, how often do you get this kind of opportunity, Alya?”

Adrien brightened. “Oh, I bet there’s a name on the inside cover!”

“Whoa whoa whoa, wait a second,” Nino said, waving his hands around. “We shouldn’t. If that really is Volpina’s textbook, and we happen to know her, then we’re putting everyone in danger. Secret identities are secret for a reason.”

Marinette looked confused. “But… it wouldn’t hurt if just four people knew, right?”

_It’d be real awkward for me,_ Nino thought.

“Nino’s right,” Alya said. “I still doubt that’s actually Volpina’s, but if it is, and we found out her identity; well, what would happen if we were akumatized? Hell, Adrien’s already been akumatized! There’s a chance that Hawk Moth could invade our minds any time we get mad, and from there he’d be able to target Volpina directly!”

Marinette paled. “Oh my god, you’re right. I never thought of that.”

“So…” Adrien looked at the book. “What do we do with it?”

“Well, I tend to run into Volpina an awful lot, so maybe I should just hold onto it,” Marinette proposed.

Alya looked like she was about to protest, but decided against it and shut her mouth.

Nino clapped his hands together. “Sweet! Now that that’s settled, let’s learn ourselves some Ancient Egypt, dudes!”

* * *

The four of them were about to enter the exhibit when a lanky guy in glasses pushed through them, accidentally tripping and bringing Nino and Alya to the ground with him. The boy was holding a folder of papers that flew every which way when he fell.

The boy pushed up to his elbows and examined the amulet that hung around his neck. “It’s not broken!” he said cheerfully.

“Uh, we’re okay too, thanks for asking,” quipped Alya from under Nino.

Nino immediately became aware that he was lying on top of Alya. He blushed and quickly got up, offering her a hand. She took it and hoisted herself up; if she felt any awkwardness, she didn’t show it. She just kept glaring at the other guy.

“I’m sorry,” the guy said, looking their group over. “Hey, you’re in the same grade as Alix, right? I’m her older brother, Jalil Kubdel. Are you interested in Tutankhamun as well? Oh! Dad!” Jalil raced past them again. He would’ve knocked Nino over a second time had Adrien not thrown out a hand to steady him.

“What a weirdo,” Marinette said once he was out of earshot.

“Hey, guys, you’ve gotta see this,” Alya called. She was standing over by one of the papyrus scrolls on the wall of the exhibit. Nino ran over; had she’d found whatever Wayzz had wanted him to see?

“Doesn’t this dude here look a _lot_ like Jade Turtle?”

Nino’s eyes widened. There on the papyrus was a rough sketch of a masked and helmeted man holding a hexagon-patterned shield.

“Hey, it does kind of look like him,” Marinette said.

“It could just be a coincidence,” Adrien pointed out. “I mean, what would Jade Turtle be doing on a five-thousand-year-old papyrus?”

“JALIL!”

All four of them whipped around. In the center of the exhibit, Mr. Kubdel had his hand locked around Jalil’s wrist. Jalil appeared to be reaching for a golden scepter that was part of the exhibit. “Don’t even _think_ about touching that scepter! I could lose my job!”

“But I need it for the spell! What if Tutankhamun had really found out how to bring people back to life? I’m the first one to translate these hieroglyphs, we have to try it!”

“That’s _enough,_ Jalil! Get your head out of those papyrus scrolls and focus on the real world for once!”

Mr. Kubdel slapped the papers out of Jalil’s hands and marched out. Jalil gathered them again, sighed, and followed.

Alya sucked in a breath. “Jeez.”

“Wow. He’s nearly as bad as _my_ father,” Adrien added.

They all looked towards Adrien sympathetically, but Marinette was the one who caught his eye. They both blushed and looked away.

“They are _so_ hopeless,” Alya whispered in Nino’s ear. She was having to bite down her laughter, but neither Marinette nor Adrien seemed to notice the strangled hiccup sounds coming out of her as she did so. 

Marinette was quick to change the subject. “So does this mean Jade’s, like, five thousand years old then?”

Adrien was very pointedly not looking at Marinette. “Only if that’s actually Jade on the papyrus.”

Alya frowned. “Well, it certainly _looks_ like him. Who else wears a mask, has a shield, and dresses like a turtle?”

Adrien shrugged. “Maybe it was some cultural thing. You know, they dress up like turtles and stuff.”

“Okay, now you’re just reaching, dude,” Nino cut in.

“Hey, he has a good point,” Marinette said, rising to Adrien’s defense. “We shouldn’t jump to conclusions.”

“ ‘Cause you didn’t jump to conclusions about that textbook or anything.”

“Oh, shut up.”

Suddenly, there was a loud crash from somewhere behind them. An alarm started blaring, and metal bars descended around the exhibit.

“What? What’s going on?” Marinette shouted.

“The Louvre’s security!” Adrien looked around frantically. “You don’t think—”

“An akuma,” Alya muttered.

Nino grit his teeth. This was bad. He was locked in here, so the only way to get out would be to transform, but he’d have to do it in front of all his friends. It was possible that Volpina would be able to release them, but he couldn’t count on it. He was seconds away from suggesting they use a coffin as a battering ram when a large Pharaoh-looking dude smashed through the wall just outside the bars.

“Hide!” Alya hissed, but Nino was way ahead of her, grabbing Adrien by the arm and yanking him behind a display case. 

“Nino, what’s—”

“Shh!”

“Sekhmet, give me strength!” bellowed the akuma. His golden head changed into that of a lioness’s, and he pried open the steel bars and lumbered into the exhibit. He extended his arms, and the papyrus scroll and scepter flew towards him.

“At last! With my scepter and the spell on this scroll, the fair Nefertiti shall be returned to me, The Pharaoh!”

_Well that’s a creative name,_ thought Nino. At least it wasn’t a pun this time.

“Huh?” The Pharaoh happened to glance behind the coffin where Alya and Marinette were hiding. Nino cursed under his breath. “You!” The Pharaoh pointed towards Marinette. “The Gods have placed you on my path, no doubt!”

“Don’t you touch her!” Alya screamed, throwing herself in front of Marinette.

Nino’s mouth went dry, and it took everything he had not to transform on the spot.

“What’s she doing?!” Adrien hissed. “She’ll get killed!”

Nino carried the transformation words on the tip of his tongue, just in case.

“Tut, give me time!” 

The Pharaoh’s face changed again, and he trapped Alya inside a golden bubble. She was still screaming, but it was silenced, and she was moving in slow motion.

Marinette scrambled backwards, holding Volpina’s history textbook out in front of her like a weapon. The Pharaoh ran up to her, and despite all of her kicking, screaming, and hitting him over the head with the textbook, he easily picked her up and carried her out of the room. 

As soon as he was gone, Adrien jumped up in a panic. “Shit. Shit! _Shit,_ Nino, what do we do? He took Mari!”

“I know, I know.” Nino ran forward to Alya’s bubble and pounded on the side, but it didn’t do anything. Damn! It would’ve been all cool if he’d popped the bubble and caught her in his arms as she fell. 

“Nino, is she okay?”

Nino took a deep breath. Now wasn’t the time, damn it, he needed to transform! 

“We need to get out of here and hide somewhere the akuma won’t find us.”

“But what about Marinette?”

“Volpina and Jade will have to deal with it.”

Adrien looked at Nino like he was crazy.

“Sorry, dude, but we can’t do shit against him! He can bend steel beams like they’re made of… of… urg, I can’t think of anything that’s easily bendable, but you get my point!”

Adrien stared him down for a few moments longer before sighing and backing off. “You’re right. I just… wish I could do something, you know?”

Nino swallowed. “I know. Me too. Come on.”

* * *

Transformed, Nino rushed back to Alya. He’d found a place to hide not too far away that only fit one person, and, with some begging, he had convinced Adrien to stay there while he ‘found a different hiding spot.’ 

But when he arrived back at the exhibit, Alya was gone, along with the time bubble. Where had—oh, Volpina. Of course. Stupid Volpina, stealing away the ladies. 

Damn. And she’d acted so happy when Jade had saved her back when Stormy Weather attacked, too! Which was kind of confusing considering how laid back she was in day to day life, but still, that hug, no matter how awkward, had felt pretty good.

A scream rang out somewhere above him, and he cursed himself. He needed to stop thinking about Alya and start thinking about superheroing. Volpina would be there soon, if she wasn’t already, and she’d never stop teasing him about beating him to the fight.

“Die! Die! Die! Die! Die!”

With every repetition of the word, Marinette smashed the textbook against The Pharaoh’s back. It wasn’t working in the slightest, but Marinette would’ve been bored without something to do.

Around the thirtieth ‘die,’ The Pharaoh exited the Louvre, attracting the attention of the crowd of Parisians loitering around the pyramid. 

“Anubis, give me mummies!” he shouted. 

From her position slung over The Pharaoh’s shoulder, Marinette saw his head change into a Jackal, and then heard a bunch of magical blasts and screams. As The Pharaoh turned towards a different group of pedestrians, Marinette saw that where the people had been standing, there was now a group of mummies shuffling towards them.

“What, a mummy army? Is this because you can’t handle things yourself? Huh? Is that it?” Marinette yelled, pounding on The Pharaoh some more.

“I need them for the ritual, you annoying pest! One hundred mummies and a sacrifice to the Sun King, Ra!”

Marinette paused in her relentless textbook attack. “… Did you say sacrifice?”

“Precisely! To restore one life, another must be given up. That other is _you.”_ The Pharaoh unfurled the papyrus scroll until it revealed a picture of a girl being offered towards the sun. The girl looked about Marinette’s size, wore her hair in pigtails, and even had a small round purse hanging around one shoulder.

“Oh, you have _got_ to be kidding me,” Marinette grumbled. This sealed it—the universe was conspiring against her.

The Pharaoh threw Marinette into the hands of three of his mummies and dropped to his knees. The rest of the mummies lined up around them, also on their knees, and they began chanting as Marinette was carried towards the pyramid.

“Awaken, Nefertiti, awaken! Awaken, Nefertiti, awaken!”

“Wait! No! Stop!” Marinette shouted. “Go back to sleep, Nefertiti! Go back to sleep, go back to sleep!”

Suddenly, and orange blur whipped through the ranks of mummies, and Marinette found herself cradled in Volpina’s arms. She sped across the pavement and towards the tall buildings across the street. She also wasn’t slowing down. At all.

Marinette clutched the textbook to her chest and screamed.

But just as they were about to crash into the storefront, Volpina leapt forwards and started to run up the face of the building. Her legs kicked so hard and so fast against the brick that they made divots all the up the wall. Before Marinette fully realized what was happening, they were already nearing the top, and Volpina launched up with one final, powerful kick, catching the side of the roof with one end of her flute and yanking them both onto the building. Volpina landed neatly in a crouch while Marinette collapsed onto the roof, the textbook spilling from her hands, its pages flapping in the wind.

“Whew!” Volpina let out a heavy breath and an exhilarated laugh. “That was fun. Always nice to see you during akuma attacks, Marinette. I feel like we’re best friends by now.”

But Marinette wasn’t listening. All of the pages of the textbook had been blown to the back by the wind, and there, on the inside cover, was a name.

**Alya Césaire**

“Alya…?” Marinette whispered breathlessly. 

Volpina’s face expanded with a mixture of shock, worry, and panic, but Marinette was too focused on the name to see it.

“But…” It couldn’t be. How could _Alya_ be Volpina? I mean, sure, she’d never seen them in the same room together, and, well, so many other things lined up, but… but…

“Oh! Alya’s textbook! I must’ve dropped it when I hit that lamppost, huh?”

“What?” Marinette was so confused.

Volpina bent down and picked the book up, looking it over. “Thanks for holding onto it for so long. God, she’d _kill_ me if I lost it.”

“So… wait… you’re…”

_Alya rolled her eyes. “She could’ve been carrying that textbook for someone else. I mean, do you really think Jade and Volpina are fifteen?”_

“You were carrying it for her? Why?”

“We know each other. Not, like, she knows my secret identity, but we’ve met—kinda like me and you, honestly—and—”

“THERE YOU ARE!” The Pharaoh was hovering above them, lines of smoke coming out of his feet like they were thrusters. 

“Crap.” Volpina set her jaw and positioned herself protectively over Marinette. 

“Sekhmet, give me strength!”

“Hey! Switching between powers is my thing, jerk!” Volpina spat.

Before either of them could take action, though, Jade’s shield caught The Pharaoh in the side, sending him staggering. Jade followed right behind it, his boot slamming straight into The Pharaoh’s hip and sending him off the building.

Marinette let out a cheer. Jade smiled and waved. Volpina just smiled, like she was happy to see him.

“Sorry I’m late.”

“Well, you are a turtle.”

“I’m not a tur—”

“Are you about to say that you’re not a turtle? Because you are definitely a turtle.”

“I’m no more turtle than you are fox, Volpina.”

“Do you imply that I’m not…” Volpina struck a pose with one hand on her hip, her back arched, and the other hand holding her hair back. “Foxy?”

Jade Turtle facepalmed.

“Are you two always like this?”

“Normally she’s worse,” Jade said.

“Oh, come on, like you don’t like it.”

“I _don’t._ It’s entirely unprofessional.”

Large golden hands grabbed at the edges of the rooftop, cracking the concrete, and The Pharaoh pulled himself onto the roof. “YOU WILL NOT TAKE AWAY MY PRECIOUS NEFERTITI!” he roared.

The superheroes shifted into battle stances.

“Well, he certainly knows to to ruin the mood,” Volpina said.

“Watch out, he’s still in strength mode,” Jade cautioned.

The Pharaoh clapped his hands together, and Volpina and Jade were sent flying.

Marinette watched in dismay as they tumbled towards the ground, screaming the whole way down. _Well, I’m fucked._

As soon as he was sure they were gone, The Pharaoh grabbed her and lifted her over his shoulder. “Horus, give me your wings!” he commanded, and then they were in the air, shooting fast towards the Louvre.

Speaking of the Louvre, it had transformed into a full-blown sacrificial ritual site. The mummies were still diligently prostrating out in front, but now the pyramid was glowing, and a pillar of light was shooting up from the top into a swirling black vortex. The Pharaoh approached the pillar of light and set Marinette on top of it; it burned against her stomach as it pushed her steadily upwards. 

“Volpina, Jade, where _are_ you?” she mumbled.

“Song of the Mountain!”

By the street across the square, a tour bus was sent toppling towards the congregation of mummies, Volpina’s raised foot behind it. The bus bowled over the mummies and crashed to a stop against the side of the Louvre with a chorus of shattering glass.

“Fools!” called The Pharaoh. “The sacred ritual is already in motion! You cannot stop it!”

“We’ll see about that!” Jade shouted back. He jumped on his shield and took to the skies. Volpina leapt after him and grabbed onto the rim of his shield, dangling along behind him as he flew. Once they were close, Jade jumped straight up, and his shield started spinning rapidly, turning Volpina into a white-orange ring around it. When she let go, she was flying towards The Pharaoh impossibly quickly. 

“Sekhmet, give me strength!”

The Pharaoh’s head flashed, and he brought his elbow down at exactly the right time. It struck hard against Volpina’s head and sent her straight into the concrete below them with a sickening crack. 

“Volpina!” Marinette shouted. 

Without his flight, The Pharaoh had fallen back to the peak of the Louvre pyramid, but it didn’t seem to matter—he punched the air, and that was enough to send a wind powerful enough to knock Jade out of the sky, too. 

Against everything modern medicine had to say about the human skeletal system, Volpina pulled herself back onto her feet and charged at The Pharaoh. He punched at her, but Jade’s shield zoomed in to block the attack just in time, letting Volpina slip past and nail him with her flute. The Pharaoh was sent flying, but he managed to reorient himself midair and land on his feet. He still skidded backwards a good five yards, his heels leaving ditches in the concrete. 

Thank god Jade could put everything back to normal; these fights caused a lot of property damage.

“Your attacks mean nothing to me!” The Pharaoh taunted. “I have already won!”

Marinette glanced upwards and screamed. The creepy black abyss was unbelievably close, so close she could touch it. And in a few seconds, that wouldn’t be a hypothetical.

“Shell!”

Instantly, Marinette’s head bonked against the green hexagonal barrier of Jade’s Shell, and her screaming transformed into relieved hyperventilation.

“Curse you, Turtle! Why must you always get in the way?” The Pharaoh stomped his foot. “No matter; I shall throw her in myself! Horus, give me wings!”

“Why didn’t you just do that in the first place?” Marinette wondered aloud. Jeez, Supervillains could be pretty stupid sometimes. Hmmph. If _she_ were ever akumatized, Marinette was sure she’d be quick and to the point.

“Oh no you don’t!” Volpina shouted. The Pharaoh looked over his shoulder just as he reached Marinette; Volpina swung her flute like a baseball bat and slammed it into Jade’s boots, sending him careening towards The Pharaoh shield-first.

“Enough of this! Sekhmet, give me strength!” The rocket boosters on his feet died out, but it didn’t matter; Jade was already on top of him. The Pharaoh roared with a beastial ferocity and punched straight at Jade’s shield. His fist connected with a deafening gong, stopping Jade dead in his tracks and releasing a wave of air so powerful it knocked Volpina to her back all the way down on the ground.

But Jade’s shield had stopped The Pharaoh’s fist just as effectively as his fist had stopped Jade, and, behind the shield, Jade didn’t have so much as a light bruise. As soon as the shock wave petered out, Jade reached around the side of the shield and snatched the pendant off The Pharaoh’s neck. With a smirk, he crushed it between his palms, and the akuma wriggled its way out from between the cracked pieces. Jade opened his shield and threw it; without it, he began plummeting downwards, but Volpina was right there to catch him.

“Really brings you back, huh,” she said smoothly, one hand on his back and the other under his knees. “All those days ago, when we first met and I saved you from falling to your death. Oh, all the fun times we’ve shared since then. If I remember correctly, you even called it ‘comfortable’ back then.” She winked.

“Yeah, and then immediately after that I asked you to put me down.”

Volpina pouted. “Why must you be so cruel to me, Jade?”

Marinette, still stuck in a beam of concentrated light and inches away from what she could only assume was a portal to the egyptian equivalent of hell, coughed.

The superheroes looked her way.

“Oh. Hey, Marinette,” Volpina said cheerfully. “Having fun?”

“What do you think?! Look, flirt with each other all you want _after_ you cast your magical turtle spell.”

Jade, at least, had the decency to look guilty. “Right. Sorry. Awesome turtle!”

One cloud of turtles later, and they were all back on the ground, a large crowd of ex-mummies sitting around them, rubbing their heads and groaning.

Jade’s bracelet beeped. “I gotta go.”

“Come on, you’ve got four minutes!” Volpina protested. “Stay a while!”

“I’d love to, really,” he said, regarding Volpina with a refined apathy, “but I have someone waiting on me.” He jumped on his shield and surfed off into the city.

Volpina shook her head. “I swear, that guy. He doesn’t appreciate me in the least.” She turned to Marinette. “You go to school with Alya, right?”

Marinette nodded cautiously.

“Give this back to her, would you?” She handed her the textbook.

Marinette took it. “Thanks for saving me again. I don’t even want to _know_ where’d I’d be right now if it weren’t for you and Jade.” Her mind returned to the massive void in the sky, and she shivered.

“You don’t have to thank me every time, Mari. Besides, all in a day’s work, you know? I didn’t even have to use my power this time. I’ve been doing this for five thousand years, remember?”

Marinette chuckled. “Is that really true? No offense, but you don’t seem very old.”

“Who knows?” Volpina winked at her. “Well, I’m sure we both have places to be. Catch you next akuma attack, danger girl!”

“Let’s hope not,” Marinette said, waving Volpina goodbye as she changed songs and flew off.

Marinette weaved her hands behind her head and let out a deep breath. What a day. As unlucky as Paris was, being ravaged by possessed supervillains every week or so, at least the city had such great people looking out for it. 

Halfway back to her house, Marinette’s phone dinged. She pulled it out; a text from Alya. It was a picture, a selfie, of her and Volpina, sticking their tongues out. The thought that the two of them looked remarkably similar scratched at Marinette’s brain, but she couldn’t quite seem to focus on it, and the thought disappeared entirely a few seconds later.

_“See you at school tomorrow, girl!”_ the text said. Marinette smiled. The two of them really seemed to get along. It was cute. She saved the picture.

* * *

Alya send the text from her phone and canceled out the illusion, her civilian form disappearing into smoke.

“There. No chance that she’ll suspect anything now.”

She let out a breath. What a day. At least she could head home now and rest.

* * *

Back in her room, Alya watched Trixx as she gorged herself on popcorn.

“Wasn’t it just a couple weeks ago when you were beating up on some other kwami for hanging out in Ancient Egypt? You’re a total hypocrite!”

Trixx shrugged as much as a kwami could, and popped another kernel into her maw. “I get that a lot.”

“You’re the worst.”

“And you’re always calling [em]me[/em] a liar. Come on, Alya, be reasonable.”

“The worst,” Alya repeated, turning to her phone.

Nino was texting her.

_NL: Yo. Hate to be the bearer of bad news, but uhhhhh_

__

_NL: Marinette fucked up big time_

__

_AC: What? What did she do?_

Nino sent her a screenshot of Marinette's facebook. It was bad enough that Marinette had a facebook account, but Alya had already criticized her about that multiple times. The real problem was that she’d posted the selfie to her facebook page.

_‘When ur bff’s bff is a superhero XD’_ read the caption.

Alya almost screamed, but managed to rein it back to a furious growl. Jesus fuck, she was going to kill that girl!

_AC: Jesus fuck, I am going to KILL that girl!_

__

_AC: Thanks for telling me Nino._

__

_NL: No prob bro_

__

_NL: Oh and good luck :)_

Alya gave a single, empty laugh. She appreciated his trying to make light of it, but… Ugh. This was bad.

“Woah! Alya, you’re on TV!” cried Ella from the other room.

Alya let her head drop onto her desk, hard. Very, very bad.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm super sorry, everyone, but there won't be a chapter next month. It just wasn't in the cards. I try my best to make sure I stick to my schedule, but expect this to happen every now and again. Thanks for reading, and thanks for your patience!


	6. Fashion Disaster

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which Marinette begins to fall apart at the seams.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey my dudes! I'm back from the break! There'll be some changes to the overall structure of this fic—you may have noticed that the chapter counter is no longer 'of ?'—and I'll go into more detail on that in the end notes, but for now, enjoy what is probably the first and only completely original chapter! It was definitely my personal favorite to write (even if it was a lot more work).

Alya was half awake and having breakfast when she checked her phone. That was the moment everything went to shit.

 _“Two hundwud meffages?!”_ she cried out through a mouth full of cheerios.

Every social media page she’d ever made for herself—which, by the way, was a lot—was getting bombarded by the Parisian media coverage. They’d even found her fanfiction.net account! _NO ONE_ was supposed to know about her fanfiction.net account!

Forgetting her cereal, she plowed into the living room, where a very stressed Marlena Césaire was on the phone. When she saw Alya, she put the other side of the call on hold.

“Alya, honey, we’ve been getting calls non-stop all morning!”

“I know, I’m sorry, this is all my fault—”

“Alya’s famous! Alya’s famous!” chanted the twins from the couch.

“They’re all over my social media too,” Alya continued, ignoring her sisters. “I’m afraid to even step outside!”

“Well, they haven’t shown up at our door. Yet,” Marlena murmured, clutching at her frazzled hair. “You’re a clever girl. Maybe if you stay home from school, we can work together to get this sorted out.”

Alya’s brain started whirring. “Maybe. Yeah. That sounds good.”

“What?!” shouted Ella. “How come Alya gets to stay home? No fair!”

“We’re going to be late for our bus anyway,” Etta mumbled.

Marlena checked her watch. “Sh—crap! Go! Go! Get outside! I _cannot_ drive you today!”

“Ha!” Ella pointed a finger at her mother. “Mama almost said the s-word!”

 _“Now,”_ Marlena hissed, with a look in her eyes that only a mother can conjure. The twins grew pale in the face and scrambled for their backpacks.

“Where’s Dad?” Alya asked as the twins vacated the premises.

Marlena sighed. “He had to cover Julie’s shift at the zoo.”

“So it’s just us then.”

Marlena gave Alya the most pained smile she’d ever seen. “Ready for some mother-daughter bonding, Alya?”

* * *

“I have no comment at this time,” Alya said for about the millionth time that morning. “No, I’m not taking interviews. No. Yeah, no. I’m not accepting bribes either, thank you. No, I can’t set that up. Thanks for your time.” 

She hung up and collapsed to the desk. This was a nightmare!

Her phone rang again. She sighed and answered. “Hello, Alya Césaire.”

 _“Hey, Alya,”_ came Marinette’s voice.

Alya had to stop herself from snarling. “Hey, Marinette. Look, I’m kind busy.”

 _“Oh, um, sorry, it’s just…”_ There was a sigh. _“I could really use someone to—”_

“Hey, is this an emergency? Because I’m not kidding when I say I’m _really_ busy.”

_“I—well—I guess not. But—”_

“Then I really can’t talk right now. Ever since you posted that picture, I’ve been getting bombarded nonstop by news companies. I feel like I’m gonna drown. Thanks for that, by the way.”

Marinette sniffed. Shit, was she crying? She’d said it wasn’t an emergency, but this was Marinette. It was entirely possible—

_“Alright. Goodbye, Alya. Sorry.”_

“Mari, wait!” Alya shouted, but the line was dead. Alya bit her lip. Fuck. Should she call her back? It might just make things worse. And she did have a lot of work to do.

Besides, Marinette was probably mad at her right now, after what she’d just said. Maybe it would be best to give her some space.

Her phone rang again; an independent journalist, this time. Alya sighed and answered it, pushing Marinette out of her mind as she fell back into the loop of answering calls and responding to messages on social media.

It wasn’t until nearly an hour later that she discovered a tweet sent to her by one @VolpinaNewsOfficial. ‘@AlyaCésaire if you know Volpina then can u tell us why she hasn’t shown up to fight the akuma yet?’ _Fuck._ Alya checked the timestamp: the tweet had only been posted three minutes ago, but how long had the akuma been active before then? 

If she had to guess she’d say probably right after she talked to Mari.

“Trixx, we’ve gotta go! We’re late!” she said.

“Then get going!” Trixx countered, flying down the back of Alya’s shirt. It felt super weird, but Alya didn’t have time to find her purse, so it would have to do.

She ran out of her house and through the living room where her mother was on the phone.

“Sorry mom I have to go it’s an emergency I’ll be back as soon as possible okay bye!”

“Alya, what—”

She didn’t even bother to shut the door.

* * *

**Earlier That Morning**

Madame Bustier gathered a pile of worksheets into her arms. Nino sighed. Looked like another day of Adrien helping him bumble his way through questions.

“Alright, everyone, I need to step out for a bit to discuss some things with the principal,” she said. “Why don’t you all do the first section of this, and we can go over it when I get back, okay?” She handed stacks of the worksheets to the students on either side of the class for them to pass back. “I trust we can keep things civil while I’m gone?” She looked meaningfully at Chloé as she left the classroom, but the girl didn’t notice, already making her way over to Adrien.

Behind him, Nino heard Marinette groan. He shot her a supportive look.

“Hey, Adrikins!” Chloé cried, sliding up onto the bench next to him with zero regard for personal space.

“Hey, Chloé,” Adrien returned, like a man who had come to terms with his imminent death.

She slid even closer, brushing up against his side. “Remember back on your birthday, when you got all mad at me outside of the school? I feel like there was a real misunderstanding there, I totally didn’t mean any harm.”

“You _pushed_ me to the _ground!”_ Marinette seethed.

Chloé rolled her eyes and glared over her shoulder. “Ugh, shut it already, dork.” 

Chloé moved to loop her arm around Adrien’s shoulders, but he pushed her away. “I’d appreciate it if you didn’t insult my friends.”

“Well, _I’d_ appreciate it if you weren’t friends with such low-lifes.”

That got Marinette on her feet. She slammed her hands down on the desk and leaned forward, sneering in Chloé’s face. If any eyes in the classroom hadn’t already been on them, they were now.

Well, so much for doing the worksheet.

“What is your _problem,_ Chloé?!” Marinette near-shouted.

“How _dare_ you accuse me of having a problem!” Chloé shot back.

Marinette steamrolled over her. “You don’t get to decide who Adrien is friends with! Jesus, who do you think you are?!”

Marinette and Adrien briefly made eye contact, but looked away just as quickly. Nino groaned internally. _This is a mess. Someone’s gonna get hurt if this goes on._ Hell, even Sabrina, who normally would’ve been right at Chloé’s side, was looking scared to get involved.

He stood up and tried to separate Chloé and Marinette. “Look, guys, this isn’t worth it. Mme Bustier’s gonna be back any minute now, and—”

“Um, _when_ did I say you could talk to me?” Chloé interrupted.

Now Adrien was standing as well. “Chloé, stop it!”

“Marinette started it! It’s her fault!” she whined.

 _“HOW_ is any of this _my_ fault?!”

Nino sighed. “Guys—”

“Don’t you have a worksheet to do?” Marinette asked Chloé, hands on her hips.

“Oh, like you were doing it!” Chloé spat. She grabbed Marinette’s design sketchbook and waved it around. “You’ve just been doodling in this stupid notebook the whole time!”

“Hey, give it back!”

“Oh, what, are your ugly cave drawings important to you?”

Adrien had a dark expression on his face. “Chloé, give it back.”

“Oh, I don’t believe this! You’re taking her side?!”

“You literally just stole her sketchbook! Of _course_ he’s taking Marinette’s side!” Nino said. 

“I _said_ don’t talk to me, trash!”

Marinette pounced over the desk and tackled Chloé. They both fell to the floor, grappling for the sketch book.

“Yeah, get ‘er, Mari!” shouted Alix from behind them, pumping her fist in the air.

“Ow! Get off me, you cur!” Chloé spat, kicking Marinette off of her. “Oh, you’re going to pay for that!”

Before anyone could stop her, Chloé vaulted across the classroom, grabbed Kim’s water bottle, and drenched Marinette’s sketchbook. The class went dead silent. 

Except for Chloé, that is. “HA! How do you like _that?!”_

Marinette stood paralyzed, her eyes wide and her whole body shaking slightly. Anyone who knew Marinette—which was pretty much the entire class, since she was such an agreeable person—knew that she treasured that sketchbook. She’d been using it ever since she’d bought it last year, and it had all her design ideas in it. And Chloé’d just ruined it.

In a sudden burst of speed, Marinette scrambled across the room, grabbed her sopping book, and ran from the classroom without saying a word.

Adrien watched her go, then stomped towards Chloé. “What the HELL was that for?!” she roared.

Chloé, for once, appeared a bit shaken. “She—she started it! She’s always antagonizing me! Did you _hear_ the things she called me?!”

“Oh, like you don’t do the same!” Adrien cried. “I didn’t know you were _this_ cruel, Chloé! Are you trying to impress me? Is that it? Because nice _fucking_ job, then!”

Everyone stared.

“Damn,” Kim said.

Adrien closed his eyes and took a deep breath. “Nino, can you go find Marinette and make sure she’s okay? I need to have a chat with Chloé.”

“Y-yeah. Sounds good.”

As much as he wanted to stay and watch, Nino knew potential akuma food when he saw it. He gathered his wits and ran out the door, straight into Mme Bustier.

“Nino?” she exclaimed. “What are you doing out of the classroom.”

Nino took a deep breath and began to explain. “So, after you left, Chloé and Marinette got in a huge fight—”

Mme Bustier pinched the bridge of her nose. “Of course they did.”

“—and then Chloé stole Marinette’s sketchbook and poured water all over it—”

“Of course she did.”

“—so she ran out of the room, and I’m trying to find her and make sure she’s okay.”

“Get going, then. I’ll try to dissolve whatever’s happening in the classroom.”

Nino flashed her a thumbs up and ran off. 

Marinette proved much harder to find than Nino had expected; he’d first checked the girl’s bathroom, because that was the stereotypical crying spot and because there were towels, but she wasn’t there. He searched around the school for another few minutes before finally going out of the building—that’s where he found her.

She was sitting in the corner where the steps met the school wall. She’d wrapped her sketchbook up in her jacket, and her phone was abandoned on the ground in front of her, her contacts page open on the screen. What really caught Nino’s attention, though, was the butterfly-shaped mask floating in the air in front of her face. It flashed in time to a deep voice that emanated from it, one that Marinette seemed to be talking to. Nino wasn’t close enough to hear the conversation, but he didn’t need to; it was obvious what was happening.

As quietly as he could, Nino ran to the nearest alleyway to transform.

* * *

“You _know_ how important those designs are to her, Chloé!” Adrien said, throwing his hands in Chloé’s face. “All of this over—over _nothing?!”_

Chloé huffed. She couldn’t _believe_ Adrien was taking Marinette’s side when she herself was clearly the victim. “It wasn’t over _nothing,_ Adrikins. She was attacking me! She’s always attacking me! She’s a cruel monster!”

“I don’t believe this,” Mylene said off on the sidelines, shaking her head.

“If anyone’s the monster, you are,” Ivan said.

“What? Come on, she’s always being a menace! Sabrina, you agree with me, right?”

Sabrina quickly nodded. Chloé smiled; at least not all of her classmates were delusional. “See? She agrees with me.”

In the back of the class, Nathanaël stood up. “Marinette’s the kindest person I know!” he said. “She’s only even mean to you because you’re mean to her.”

Chloé narrowed her eyes. Who did he think he was? “Do you really want to mess with me, tomato head?”

Nathanaël blushed and sat back down.

The door exploded open, and Mme Bustier strode into the classroom. “Chloé, what did you do this time?”

“What? Why do you think it’s _my_ fault?”

“It’s _always_ your fault,” Alix said. “Well, unless it’s Kim’s.”

“Hey!” Kim shouted. Alix shrugged.

Mme Bustier sighed and moved to the center of the room, leaning back against her desk. “Alright. What happened?”

The room erupted with the sound of ten voices talking at once.

Chloé pointed at Marinette’s empty bench “Marinette started it!”

“Chloé was insulting Marinette!” Adrien exclaimed.

“Then she poured water all over her book!” Nathanaël shouted, on his feet again.

“Everyone was saying all these really mean things…” Rose said.

“—and then, _bam!”_ Kim slammed his fist into the palm of his hand. “Marinette tackled her to the ground!”

“Quiet!” Mme Bustier shouted. Everyone obeyed. “Okay. Let’s see.” She scanned the classroom. “Juleka. What happened.”

“Um,” Juleka started. “Chloé sat down next to Adrien and said something that offended Marinette, who got mad. Then Chloé started calling her names, which made Marinette start calling her names, and then Adrien got involved which made everything worse. Nino tried to calm them down, but then Chloé stole Marinette’s sketchbook, so she tackled Chloé to try and get it back, but Chloé kicked her off and poured Kim’s water bottle all over it, and Marinette ran away.”

“Thank you, Juleka,” said Mme Bustier.

“Yeah, sure,” she mumbled.

“Chloé? I’ll see you after class.”

“What?!” Chloé couldn’t believe it. “This is an outrage! It was all Marinette’s fault! You heard Juleka, she started it!”

Mme Bustier smiled. “And you can tell me all about that after class. Right now, we have a worksheet to start.”

Chloé growled, but returned to her seat. Marinette would pay for this, she’d make sure of it. God, next time she saw her… 

As if on cue, the door opened once again, and Marinette stepped through. Only, it wasn’t just Marinette—aside from the telltale mask that screamed ‘akuma,’ she was wearing a glittering red dress and high heels, her purse had taken on an ugly purple hue, and her pigtails had sewing needles crossing through the tie. But besides that, she looked exactly like she did normally. No weird skin tone, no super suit, no crazy hair color changes… Frankly, Chloé found it incredibly unnerving; especially when she looked straight at her.

“Hello, Chloé. I’m Fashion Disaster.”

Despite herself, Chloé snorted. What a stupid name. “Yeah, you definitely are. That dress is _way_ too gaudy.”

Fashion Disaster frowned. Her purse opened up and a rush of fabric came out of it; a scarf, Chloé realized. The scarf slipped through the air before she had time to react and wrapped itself around her body, restraining her arms and gagging her. She shouted the worst obscenities she could think of at the akuma, but it came out muffled and garbled through the fabric.

Fashion Disaster made a motion with her hands, and the scarf zoomed back to her, hauling Chloé along with it. “Well, I’ve got what I came for. See you later!” She laughed and looked at Chloé, who was attempting to shout at her. “Even if this one won’t.”

“Hold it right there!”

Chloé turned to the voice. Jade Turtle was standing in the doorway to the classroom, shield in hand. God, what had taken him so long?

He threw his shield at them, but more cloth sprang from Fashion Disaster’s bag, wrapping the shield in a thick padding. With all the cloth surrounding it, Fashion Disaster easily took the blow on her shoulder and charged towards Jade, firing sewing needles out of her fingers at him. Jade cursed and leapt back to the safety of the hallway, but a shirt flew out of Fashion Disaster’s purse and caught him around the legs, tripping him. As he fell down, she burst forward and delivered a heavy kick to his stomach, sending him sprawling down the hallway.

Chloé, who had been wriggling around the whole time, finally managed to free her mouth. “God, you are _so_ useless!” she called to the superhero as Fashion Disaster ran to the school doors.

As they left the school and took off through the back alleys of Paris, a weird butterfly-shaped mask appeared in front of Fashion Disaster’s face, and a voice rang out. 

“What are you doing, Fashion Disaster? You should have secured Jade Turtle’s miraculous when he was vulnerable!”

“I promised to get you your miraculous in exchange for revenge, and _I_ haven’t gotten my revenge yet.” She smiled down at Chloé as she ran. “But we’re getting there. Don’t worry, Hawk Moth, you’ll get what you want.”

“I better. I gave you these powers, and I can take them away, too.”

The mask faded.

“So, what, you can talk to Hawk Moth or whatever through your face?” Chloé asked.

“Don’t worry about him,” Fashion Disaster said, “when you should be worrying about me.” She turned to Chloé with a twisted smile, and three wicked-looking needles materialized between her fingers. Chloé gulped.

* * *

Fashion Disaster took Chloé to an unused warehouse on the edge of Paris. It was horribly filthy, smelled worse than Jagged Stone’s cologne, and looked like it would come crashing down if you blew on it too hard. Long story short, Chloé was not having a fun time.

“Ugh, get me out of this dump!” she ordered, kicking futilely at her bindings. “You have _no_ right to treat me like this!”

“I’m not concerned with what’s right or wrong right now, Chloé.” Fashion Disaster waved her hand, and the scarf unraveled rapidly, sending Chloé spinning. Before she could get her bearings, Fashion Disaster shoved her hard into the wall and then pinned her clothes to it with sewing needles, trapping her. “I sold my soul for these powers so I could get revenge, and I’m going to take it!”

Chloé winced. Marinette seemed to be a lot more lucid than Ivan had when he’d been monster-fied. That wasn’t too surprising, considering Ivan was such a dunce, but maybe it meant Fashion Disaster might listen to her.

“Hey, look, I’m sorry about your stupid sketchbook, okay?”

Fashion Disaster’s eyes glinted. “Oh, you will be.”

“What? But I apologized! It’s just a freaking book, how petty can you be?”

Without warning, Fashion Disaster reached out and tore Chloé’s jacket off of her.

“Hey!” Chloé shouted. “You give that back!”

“It’s just a jacket,” Fashion Disaster said softly, leaning in towards Chloé. She cracked a smile, and ripped it into shreds. “How petty can you be?”

“That was designer, you bitch!” Chloé wailed. “It’s not easy to replace!”

Fashion Disaster laughed, a grand, open cackle. “I know!” She lurched forward, swiping Chloé’s sunglasses and snapping them in half. “That’s what makes it so fun!”

Chloé face was bright red now. “How _dare_ you! You are going to _pay_ for this, you—AH!”

Suddenly, she found herself surrounded by needles, hoving in the air only inches away from her body. She looked up to see Fashion Disaster smiling even wider, her eyes wide and gleeful. “Oh, how mad you get over your clothes! I can’t wait until we get to the _real_ stuff…” She extended her hand, and a few of the knitting needles floated forward to form a ring around Chloé’s neck. 

Chloé pressed herself against the wall of the warehouse as much as she could. The points of the needles felt impossibly close to her throat, and she could feel a phantom tingling all across it. “This—this isn’t funny! You better stop right now!” 

The blue mask from before appeared around Fashion Disaster’s face. “You’ve had your revenge,” the voice said. “Now you must bring me the miraculouses!” 

“Are you kidding? I’ve barely even started!” said Fashion Disaster.

“Are you disobeying me?”

Fashion Disaster let out a screech of pain, retracting her arm and grasping it in her opposite hand. Her face was screwed up with confusion and pain. “What… What is… Aah!”

“Do as I say!” commanded the voice, sending Fashion Disaster another jolt of pain. When it was over, she fell onto her hands and knees, heaving labored breaths.

Then her head snapped to Chloé, making her start. “See this?” she hissed. “You caused this. You did this. I hope you’re proud.” With a swift motion, she got to her feet, her storm of needles jolting from the ground to millimeters away from Chloé’s skin. She yelped, tensed, and squeezed her eyes shut, but nothing came. When she opened her eyes again, the needles were gone, and Fashion Disaster was already at the doorway on the far side of the warehouse. 

She looked over her shoulder at Chloé. “Don’t worry—I’ll be back soon. We’ll pick up where we left off.”

The massive warehouse door slid shut, leaving Chloé in the dark.

* * *

As soon as she was transformed, Alya activated her communicator and called Jade. He picked up immediately.

“Jade! I’m sorry I’m so horribly late.”

“It’s cool,” he said. “The real battle hasn’t started yet or anything.”

“What are we dealing with?” Alya asked, even though she was pretty sure she knew.

Jade sighed. “It’s Marinette. You know, like, _the_ Marinette, the one you actually know.”

Alya grimaced. If only she were ever wrong about these things.

“She seems to be fashion based,” Jade continued. “She can summon clothes and needles and stuff.”

“I thought you said you hadn’t battled her yet?”

“I had a brief run-in with her when she was kidnapping the Mayor’s daughter, but she got away. I think Chloé was the one who caused the akumatization. Again.”

 _Not the only one,_ Alya thought. “She ran from you? Don’t the akumas normal come to us, not the other way around?”

Jade shrugged. “I dunno. She kicked me down a hallway before she ran, so it wasn’t as though she _couldn’t_ fight me for some reason.”

“Oh.” Great, now she felt guilty about two things at once. “I’m… sorry I wasn’t there to help.”

“Hey, you can’t be everywhere at once.” He paused. “Say, um, sorry if this is out of line, but is it true that you know that Alya girl?”

Alya groaned and ran her hands down her face. “Ugh. Fine. Yes, that’s true. Don’t mention it to the press.”

On the other side of the screen, Jade started wringing his hands out nervously. “Ok, cool, so… would be possible, maybe, for you to ask her if—”

Alya had no idea what he was going on about, but she knew that she was _not_ in the mood to juggle identities right now. “Look, I’m sorry, can we talk about this later? You know, akuma on the loose and all that.”

“O-oh. Right. Yeah, of course.” Jade chuckled. “Funny, normally it’s me telling you that.”

Alya forced a smile. “Yeah. Well, I have your location, so you keep looking and I’ll make my way to you.”

“Sounds good. See ya.” The screen went black.

Alya shook her head. _Focus, Alya. You have an akuma to beat._ She steeled herself and took to the skies, the rooftops speeding past beneath her.

* * *

Nino was perched on the roof of an apartment complex, surveying the surrounding streets, when Volpina touched down behind him.

“‘Sup, Volps?”

“Hey,” she said. “Any luck?”

“Not yet, but she was last seen headed this way, so I’m hopeful.”

Volina nodded. “And now we wait.” She settled onto the rooftop a few feet from where he was perched.

Nino continued scanning the city, and he kept his communicator open on the news, but otherwise let himself sink into the silence. Even though it wasn’t really silent. He could hear traffic and people and birds in the distance, and someone’s radio was on too loud in an apartment somewhere below them. It was really only their roof that seemed quiet. Which was odd.

He turned to Volpina. “Hey, are you okay? Normally you’re more, you know. Lively. Flirty.”

Volpina regarded him with a warm smile but tired eyes. “It’s nice of you to ask, but it's nothing, really. Just a civilian thing that's got me down.”

Nino studied her and frowned. “Really?”

“Mostly,” she sighed. “Having to fight Marinette doesn’t help. She, like. She doesn’t treat me like a celebrity, you know? Probably because she’s run into me enough to know I’m ridiculously unprofessional. Anyway, it’s nice to have someone like that.”

Nino got the feeling there was something more to it than that, but it didn’t seem like Volpina wanted to share, so he didn’t ask. “I know the feeling,” he said instead. “A past akuma was one of my best friends, so that was kind of tough.”

“Sorry.”

“Yeah.”

Neither of them said anything for a minute, but then Volpina spoke up. “I see her.”

Jade immediately snapped to attention, his shield flying to his arm. Sure enough, Fashion Disaster was running down the street on high alert, like she was looking for something. _Probably for us, if I had to guess._

“Let’s go,” he said.

Nino leapt off the roof and hurled his shield towards Fashion Disaster. Her head snapped upwards as the weapon cut across the street, and she nimbly sprung out of the way. As Nino dropped onto the pavement, his suit absorbing the brunt of the fall, she thrust out her hand and a spray of needles shot forth. Fortunately, Nino’s shield returned to him just in time to intercept the attack, and the needles to clatter harmlessly to the ground.

“Song of the Mountain!”

Before Nino could even turn his head, an entire dumpster was launched out of a sidestreet, straight for Fashion Disaster. She waved a hand and a stream of cloth came flying out of her purse, forming a net in the air in front of her and cleanly bouncing the dumpster back at Volpina. Nino was already in the air, however, and he stopped the dumpster easily with the underside of his shield as he sped by. 

At the same time, Volpina burst towards Fashion Disaster, swinging an entire street lamp like it was a roll of wrapping paper. Fashion Disaster jumped backwards out of Volpina’s reach and sent out an army of flying t-shirts. They twisted and wove through the air, but Nino’s shield was faster, and he easily knocked them all out of the way. Volpina took the opportunity to charge at Fashion Disaster once again, Nino flying along beside her.

Fashion Disaster sneered, her eyes bouncing from one of them to the other and back. She took a step backwards. Then a smile spread across her cheeks, and she lifted her arms. A storm of needles shot forth, causing Volpina to flatten herself to the ground and Nino to enlarge and drop behind his shield. When it cleared up somewhat, Nino peeked over the edge of his shield to see Fashion Disaster zipping away on a pair of magical scarves. 

“She’s getting away!” he called.

Fashion Disaster looked over her shoulder and stuck out her tongue, then threw both arms behind her, needles spewing out of them.

“Jade, shield up!” Volpina called. Nino did as she said. “We’re going after her. Song of the River!” Suddenly, he felt Volpina’s arms wrap around his waist, and they were off, rocketing down the street.

“Jesus!” Nino shouted. “Couldn’t you have warned me?”

“I said we were going after her!” she yelled back. “Now tell me where to go!”

“What?”

“I can’t see where I’m going!”

“WHAT?! This is a terrible plan!” Nino looked over the top of the shield, needles clipping off his helmet, and saw that they were headed straight for someone’s house.

“Right! Right!” he screamed. Volpina changed directions on a dime, doing nasty things to Nino’s stomach and sending them once again into the storm of sewing needles that followed Fashion Disaster.

“Wait, now left!” he called as their quarry turned once again. “Straight, straight… okay, now left again… Jump, oh my god, jump—phew. Okay, straight… Lef—no, that’s right! Definitely right! Straight, straight… Stop!”

Volpina skidded to a halt, and as the last of the needles fell to the ground, Nino let his shield return to normal size on his arm.

“Let’s never do that again,” he said.

Volpina shrugged. “Well, I mean, it was pretty effective.”

“We almost died at least six times.”

“Whatever. Where’d she go?”

“There,” Nino said, pointing to an old, decrepit warehouse that stood a little ways away.

“Okay. That’s probably a trap.”

“Well it’s not like we have a choice, really.”

“You’re probably right,” Volpina admitted. “After you.”

Nino raised his shield arm, circled around to the front of the warehouse, and wrenched open the door. Fashion Disaster was standing at the other side, next to Chloé, who was pinned to the wall and surrounded by floating needles.

Fashion Disaster grinned darkly. “Two choices: give up your miraculous, or the trash gets it.”

“Help! She’s crazy!” Chloé shouted. “She ruined my jacket and sunglasses and wants to kill me!”

 _She really needs to work on her priorities._ “Shell.” The forcefield shot forward, surrounding Chloé before Fashion Disaster could react.

“Damn,” she muttered. She waved her hands, and the needles floated through the air back to her, forming a porcupine-like shell around her.

“The akuma must be in her purse,” Volpina said.

“Yeah, but how do we get to it?”

Suddenly, the purse in question burst open, and an army of various clothing items flew out. Volpina used her speed to dodge around them and head straight for Fashion Disaster, but since Nino didn’t have the space to fly in the cramped warehouse, there was no way he’d even come close to matching her speed. And to make it even worse, a blunt frisbee wasn’t the best weapon to fight living cloth. If only he could cut them somehow…

There was a click. Nino looked at his shield; a bladed edge had popped out around the perimeter. _Huh. Learn something new about this thing every day._

Nino tested it out on a dress that was leading the pack of rabid clothing. The shield sliced cleanly through the fabric, and the two severed halves of the dress flumped to the warehouse floor. Nino smirked; he could work with this.

Two minutes later, he was feeling much less confident. Sure, none of Fashion Disaster’s army had been able to get within two feet of him without being ripped apart, but they didn’t seem to stop coming. He was bouncing around the warehouse, his shield banking and twisting in perfect sync with his acrobatics to cut through the fabric monsters, but he wasn’t getting any closer to the akuma.

_Beep!_

“Shit,” he mumbled. Only a couple minutes left before he detransformed. He stole a glance at Volpina—she didn’t seem to be having any luck either, slamming her flute against the wall of needles that protected Fashion Disaster over and over again with no effect and constantly having to dodge even more needles that were being shot at her. 

“She’s stalling!” Nino shouted.

“I know!” Volpina called back. “Knowing doesn’t help!”

“You what else doesn’t help?” Chloé shouted. “You two! You two are not helping me at _all!”_

“Oh, _SHUT UP!”_ Fashion Disaster roared. “As soon as that forcefield goes down, I’m gonna make you into a pincushion!”

While she was distracted, Volpina zoomed up next to Nino, and whispered into his ear, “Go and recharge. I’ll be alright.”

Nino was about to shake his head in protest when his miraculous beeped again. Volpina gave him a look, and he sighed. “Fine. I’ll be back as soon as I can.”

As the fight picked back up again, he leapt onto his shield and sped out of the warehouse, angling for the nearest chocolate shop.

* * *

As Jade left, Alya put her flute to her mouth. “Fox’s Cunning.”

“Ha! Your partner’s out of time!” gloated Fashion Disaster. “There’s no way you can beat me by yourself, and that shield around the brat here will be gone any minute. You may as well just hand over your miraculous!”

“I think you underestimate how much time he had left,” Volpina said.

Fashion Disaster opened her mouth to retort, but before she could, Jade burst through the wall of the warehouse, grabbed Chloé, and high-tailed it out of there. 

Or, at least, that’s what it looked like to Fashion Disaster. “No!” she shouted, bolting through the hole Jade had left in the wall. Except the hole was an illusion, so she ended up ramming straight into the wall of the warehouse. While she was dazed, Volpina launched herself at the purse—straight through the blanket of needles that surrounded it.

The suit that the transformation granted helped in a lot of ways; she could fall off of roofs and not even feel it, she could punch through brick walls without damaging her fist, she could probably even get run over and brush it off like nothing—but it wasn’t perfect. The attacks of akumas were different. For example, when a giant pharaoh man had punched her at high speeds, it had felt like what she would expect something like that to feel: intensely painful. Her body seemed to heal it off at insane rates, but she had sworn she’d heard half her ribs break that day.

Needless to say, getting stabbed up the arm by a bunch of needles was not fun, and she had to bite her tongue to keep from screaming, but she managed to grab the purse nonetheless. She felt the puncture wounds in her flesh close up as soon as she retracted her arm, and her suit reformed over the holes almost instantly, but there was still a fair amount of blood on the purse and on her, and her arm still hurt like all hell.

She fought through it, though, and ripped apart the purse. Fashion Disaster detransformed back into Marinette, and the akuma appeared and tried its best to flutter away. She easily caught it between her hands. 

“Well, glad _that’s_ over. Took you long enough,” Chloé complained, brushing herself off and walking towards the door. She pulled out her cell phone. “Hey, daddy. You need to send someone to pick me up. I’m at this ghastly warehouse…”

Once she was out of sight, Alya turned back to Marinette, who was rubbing her head.

“Uhg… I was akumatized, wasn’t I?”

“Yup.”

She looked up, noticed the blood on Alya’s suit, and jumped into a frenzy. “Oh my god, did I do that? I’m so sorry!”

“Don’t be sorry. It wasn’t your fault. Plus, I kind of did it to myself.”

“Yeah, but to save me, I bet.” She looked down and noticed her torn purse, her mouth tilting into a frown. She didn’t say anything, but Alya could tell what was going through her head.

“You made that yourself, didn’t you?”

Marinette sighed. “Yeah. It’s not a huge deal, but… it was important to me.”

“Keep the pieces on you. Once Jade purifies the akuma it should repair itself.”

“Oh. That hasn’t happened yet?”

“He ran out of time in the middle of the fight, so I had to finish it by myself.” Volpina nodded to her clasped hands where the akuma was. “You should probably start walking home. We’re pretty far out of the city, and my miraculous is running low, so I won’t be able to fly you or anything.”

Marinette nodded. “Thanks again for saving me.”

Alya smiled. “Yeah, yeah.” She didn’t deserve to be thanked, not when she practically caused the akumatization in the first place, but Marinette couldn’t know that. She watched as her friend gave her one final wave before heading out.

About a minute later, Jade arrived, and they purified the akuma. As the magical turtle swarm cleared up, Alya’s miraculous beeped, down to one section.

“Only a minute left,” she said. “I’ll see you next time, Jade.”

“See you next time,” he echoed. “Oh, and I hope whatever’s bothering you in your civilian life clears up. I never thought I’d say this, but I think your shameless and inappropriately timed joking has grown on me.”

Alya smiled. How could he be so… nice, and considerate, all of the time? “Aw, thanks, Monsieur Turtle!”

“Okay but don’t call me Monsieur Turtle.”

Alya laughed, turned, and flew off.

* * *

Her transformation hadn’t lasted much longer after the fight, so Alya ended up making most of her way home on foot. When she walked in the door, she immediately began professing how very sorry she was for leaving her mother all alone in Phone Call Hell. However, Marlena was in a much better mood than when Alya had run out to fight the akuma. Apparently, everything had slowed down not long after she had left, and her mother only had to turn away one news crew that showed up outside their door.

So Alya retreated to her room, closed the door, and checked to see if her social media was still awful while Trixx inhaled a bag of microwave popcorn inside her trash can house.

While she was browsing her various socializing platforms, Marinette’s facebook page caught her attention again. She had made a new post only a few minutes ago, on the picture of Alya and Volpina that had started this whole mess in the first place.

 _Geez!_ Marinette had written, _This has gotten way out of hand! You guys know this is photoshopped, right? :P_

Immediately, Alya broke out her phone and called Marinette.

_“Hey Alya, what’s up?”_

“Girl! Thank you so much for posting that. You’re a hero.”

_“No problem. It’s what most people were saying anyway, and I feel like it’s the least I can do since I put the photo there in the first place.”_

“Yeah, but, like, this is after I was super shitty to you over the phone and got you akumatized for it.”

Marinette paused, like she was searching for the right words. _“You were stressed, it’s… understandable. Plus, Chloé was a billion times worse to me than you were, and I’m sure that was apparent in my akuma’s behaviour. It never went after you, right? No hard feelings!”_

If she were being technical, Fashion Disaster _had_ gone after her, just… not in that way. “I know. I just feel like I let you down when you needed me.”

 _“Well…”_ She paused again. _“You kinda did? I mean, you said some mean stuff, and it, you know, hurt.”_

Alya groaned. “I’m an awful friend.”

 _“No!”_ Marinette cried. _“You were stressed and angry with me, and you had every right to be! It was just bad timing. It’s fine, really. Let’s just forget about it.”_

“Girl, that is an idea that I can get behind.”

_“I’m glad. So will you be in class tomorrow?”_

“Yeah. See you then!”

_“Bye!”_

Alya hung up. Well, that had only made her feel even worse. What did she ever do to deserve such nice friends? I mean, she was obviously grateful for them, but sometimes they just felt… undeserved. It would’ve been so much easier if Marinette had been at least a _tiny_ bit angry at her for what she’d said. I mean, she’d been awful, brushing her best friend off like that! Shouldn’t at least _someone_ be mad at her? It was like she was getting away with murder. But, like, not that bad. Maybe getting away with loitering illegally or something.

She sighed. “Hey, Trixx, insult me.”

The kwami looked up from her popcorn. “Sure. Your hair looks terrible.”

Alya’s eyebrows shot together. “Excuse me? What’s wrong with my hair?”

“Look at it. It’s like it can’t decide what color it wants to be.”

“That—it—you’re awful at this.”

“You told me to insult you, and I issued an excellent insult, so either you’re wrong or have bad taste.”

“Okay, forget it. You can stop insulting me now.”

“Oh, that last one wasn’t an insult,” Trixx explained. “See, you said I’m awful at insulting you, when in fact I am excellent at insulting you. So I was defending myself.”

“Whatever, just stop talking.”

Trixx rolled her eyes. “God, nothing pleases you, does it.”

Alya dropped a textbook over the top of the trashcan.

* * *

_AC: Hey, Nino. Are you ever like super mean to someone, but they forgive you too easily, so you end up feeling guilty for no good reason._

_NL: Um_

_NL: Hey_

_NL: Is this about Marinette_

_AC: Yes? Does that make a difference?_

_NL: Yeah ok look_

_NL: Marinette’s like_

_NL: The nicest fucking person in Paris_

_NL: Well unless your name is Chloé but she’s an outlier_

_NL: Like you’re best friends with her right_

_AC: Yeah?_

_NL: So dude consider that she’s normal-friends with practically everyone in our class_

_NL: And that she would literally forgive any of them for anything they ever did as long as they actually apologized_

_NL: So it’s no surprise she’d do it for you, her best friend_

_AC: Okay, but that only makes me question why she wants to be best friends with me in the first place. I mean, she’s only known me for a few months._

_NL: Bro, why wouldn’t she want to be besties with you_

_NL: Like Adrien’s my guy. My dude. And we’ve only known each other for a few months._

_NL: But tbh your like the chillest person I know so that probably has a lot to do with it_

_AC: Aw that’s sweet_

_NL: What can I say I’m a sweet guy_

_NL: But anyway_

_NL: Mari really kinda needed a chill person to balance out her…_

_NL: You know_

_NL: Everything_

_NL: And frankly so does everybody else in this goddamn city I mean things have been crazy lately_

_AC: Hahaha_

_AC: Thanks, Nino._

_NL: Yo, any time_

* * *

Alya had stopped responding, so Nino turned off his phone, flopped backwards onto his bed, and let out a whoop.

“Ha _ha!”_ he cried. “I _nailed_ that conversation! Mr. Smooth, that’s me.”

Wayzz floated up next to him, smiling widely. “I have no idea what you just said, but I am happy that you succeeded at poking your phone!”

“Dude, when it comes to poking my phone, I’m the best there is.” He got up, stretched, and grabbed his wallet. “I’m gonna go get ice cream to celebrate another successful day of being both an awesome superhero and an awesome regular dude at the same time. You coming? I can order a chocolate shake and stick the straw up my hat.”

Wayzz looked at him strangely but went along with it, and soon, Nino was out on the streets with a spring in his step, as if the whole world couldn’t stop him.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Alright, I'm gonna be real: as of right now, this is on hold for an indeterminate amount of time. Short version, school hit me in the face like a sack of fucking bricks and despite my best efforts, 7k words a month is no longer something I can pull off.
> 
> That said, I don't want to abandon this fic permanently. Once my life shuts up for two seconds, I'll see what I can do about returning and wrapping it up. I'm definitely not doing the whole first season: only thirteen episodes. Those will wrap up the arc of their relationship, basically. But as I said, no idea when the next chapter's coming. 
> 
> In the interim, I'll still be posting some lighter fics that come out all at once and I don't have to worry about an update schedule for, so if you like my writing, you can check those out. They'll just be comedies, probably, like most of my other fics.
> 
> Anyway. Thanks so much for sticking with me this far, and I hoped you enjoyed what I had to offer.


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